# 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

MR.  &  MRS.  HARRY  S.  MOYER 
Collection  of  Frederic  Remington 


SPECIMEN  JONES 


[Pag 


RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 


BY 

OWEN  WISTER 

ILLUSTRATED 

BY  FREDERIC  REMINGTON 


NEW   YORK  AND   LONDON 

HARPER  &   BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

1903 


Copyright,  1895,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

All  rights  reserved. 


TO 
S.  B.W.  AND  O.  J.W. 

FROM  THEIR  SON 


PREFACE 


THESE  eight  stories  are  made  from  our  West 
ern  Frontier  as  it  was  in  a  past  as  near  as  yester 
day  and  almost  as  by-gone  as  the  Revolution  ;  so 
swiftly  do  we  proceed.  They  belong  to  each 
other  in  a  kinship  of  life  and  manners,  and  a  lit 
tle  through  the  nearer  tie  of  having  here  and 
there  a  character  in  common.  Thus  they  resem 
ble  faintly  the  separate  parts  of  a  whole,  and 
gain,  perhaps,  something  of  the  invaluable  weight 
of  length;  and  they  have  been  received  by  my 
closest  friends  with  suspicion. 

Many  sorts  of  Americans  live  in  America ;  and 
the  Atlantic  American,  it  is  to  be  feared,  often 
has  a  cautious  and  conventional  imagination.  In 
his  routine  he  has  lived  unaware  of  the  violent 
and  romantic  era  in  eruption  upon  his  soil.  Only 
the  elk-hunter  has  at  times  returned  with  tales 
at  which  the  other  Atlantic  Americans  have  de 
ported  themselves  politely ;  and  similarly,  but 
for  the  assurances  of  Western  readers,  I  should 
have  come  to  doubt  the  truth  of  my  own  impres 
sions.  All  this  is  most  natural. 

If  you  will  look  upon  the  term  "  United  States  " 


VI  PREFACE 

as  describing  what  we  are,  you  must  put  upon  it 
a  strict  and  Federal  construction.  We  undoubt 
edly  use  the  city  of  Washington  for  our  general 
business  office,  and  in  the  event  of  a  foreign 
enemy  upon  our  coasts  we  should  stand  bound 
together  more  stoutly  than  we  have  shown  our 
selves  since  1776.  But  as  we  are  now,  seldom 
has  a  great  commonwealth  been  seen  less  united 
in  its  stages  of  progress,  more  uneven  in  its  de 
grees  of  enlightenment.  Never,  indeed,  it  would 
seem,  have  such  various  centuries  been  jostled 
together  as  they  are  to-day  upon  this  continent, 
and  within  the  boundaries  of  our  nation.  We 
have  taken  the  ages  out  of  their  processional 
arrangement  and  set  them  marching  disorderly 
abreast  in  our  wide  territory,  a  harlequin  platoon. 
We  citizens  of  the  United  States  date  our  letters 
1 8 — ,  and  speak  of  ourselves  as  living  in  the  pres 
ent  era ;  but  the  accuracy  of  that  custom  de 
pends  upon  where  we  happen  to  be  writing. 
While  portions  of  New  York,  Chicago,  and  San 
Francisco  are  of  this  nineteenth  century,  we  have 
many  ancient  periods  surviving  among  us.  What 
do  you  say,  for  example,  to  the  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee  mountaineers,  with  their  vendettas  of 
blood  descending  from  father  to  son  ?  That  was 
once  the  prevailing  fashion  of  revenge.  Yet 
even  before  the  day  when  Columbus  sailed  had 
certain  communities  matured  beyond  it.  This 
sprout  of  the  Middle  Ages  flourishes  fresh  and 
green  some  five  hundred  miles  and  five  hundred 
years  from  New  York.  In  the  single  State  of 


PREFACE  Vll 

Texas  you  will  find  a  contrast  more  violent  still. 
There,  not  long  ago,  an  African  was  led  upon  a 
platform  in  a  public  place  for  people  to  see,  and 
tortured  slowly  to  death  with  knives  and  fire. 
To  witness  this  scene  young  men  and  women 
came  in  crowds.  It  is  said  that  the  railroad  ran 
a  special  train  for  spectators  from  a  distance. 
How  might  that  audience  of  Paris,  Texas,  ap 
propriately  date  its  letters?  Not  Anno  Domini, 
but  many  years  B.C.  The  African  deserves  no 
pity.  His  hideous  crime  was  enough  to  drive  a 
father  to  any  madness,  and  too  many  such  mon 
sters  have  by  their  acts  made  Texas  justly  des 
perate.  But  for  American  citizens  to  crowd  to 
the  retribution,  and  look  on  as  at  a  holiday 
show,  reveals  the  Inquisition,  the  Pagans,  the 
Stone  Age,  unreclaimed  in  our  republic.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  young  men  and  women  who  will 
watch  side  by  side  the  burning  of  a  negro  shrink 
from  using  such  words  as  bull  or  stallion  in  po 
lite  society ;  many  in  Texas  will  say,  instead, 
male  cow  and  caviard  horse  (a  term  spelled  as 
they  pronounce  it),  and  consider  that  delicacy  is 
thus  achieved.  Yet  in  this  lump  Texas  holds 
leaven  as  sterling  as  in  any  State  ;  but  it  has  far 
to  spread. 

It  were  easy  to  proceed  from  Maine  to  Cali 
fornia  instancing  the  remote  centuries  that  are 
daily  colliding  within  our  domain ,  but  this  is 
enough  to  show  how  little  we  cohere  in  opin 
ions.  How  many  States  and  Territories  is  it  that 
we  count  united  under  our  Stars  and  Stripes?  I 


Vlll  PREFACE 

know  that  there  are  some  forty-five  or  more,  and 
that  though  I  belong  among  the  original  thir 
teen,  it  has  been  my  happiness  to  journey  in  all 
the  others,  in  most  of  them,  indeed,  many  times, 
for  the  sake  of  making  my  country's  acquaint 
ance.  With  no  spread-eagle  brag  do  I  gather 
conviction  each  year  that  we  Americans,  judged 
not  hastily,  are  sound  at  heart,  kind,  courageous, 
often  of  the  truest  delicacy,  and  always  ulti 
mately  of  excellent  good-sense.  With  such  be 
lief,  or,  rather,  knowledge,  it  is  sorrowful  to  see 
our  fatal  complacence,  our  as  yet  undisciplined 
folly,  in  sending  to  our  State  Legislatures  and 
to  that  general  business  office  of  ours  at  Wash 
ington  a  herd  of  mismanagers  that  seems  each 
year  to  grow  more  inefficient  and  contempti 
ble,  whether  branded  Republican  or  Democrat. 
But  I  take  heart,  because  often  and  oftener  I 
hear  upon  my  journey  the  citizens  high  and  low 
muttering,  "There's  too-  much  politics  in  this 
country  ";  and  we  shake  hands. 

But  all  this  is  growing  too  serious  for  a  book  of 
short  stories.  They  are  about  Indians  and  sol 
diers  and  events  west  of  the  Missouri.  They 
belong  to  the  past  thirty  years  of  our  develop 
ment,  but  you  will  find  some  of  those  ancient 
surviving  centuries  in  them  if  you  take  my  view. 
In  certain  ones  the  incidents,  and  even  some  of 
the  names,  are  left  unchanged  from  their  original 
reality.  The  visit  of  Young-man-afraid-of-his- 
horses  to  the  Little  Big  Horn  and  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  young  Crow  impostor,  General  Crook's 


PREFACE  IX 

surprise  of  E-egante,  and  many  other  occurrences, 
noble  and  ignoble,  are  told  as  they  were  told  to 
me  by  those  who  saw  them.  When  our  national 
life,  our  own  soil,  is  so  rich  in  adventures  to  re 
cord,  what  need  is  there  for  one  to  call  upon  his 
invention  save  to  draw,  if  he  can,  characters  who 
shall  fit  these  strange  and  dramatic  scenes  ?  One 
cannot  improve  upon  such  realities.  If  this  fic 
tion  is  at  all  faithful  to  the  truth  from  which  it 
springs,  let  the  thanks  be  given  to  the  patience 
and  boundless  hospitality  of  the  Army  friends 
and  other  friends  across  the  Missouri  who  have 
housed  my  body  and  instructed  my  mind.  And 
if  the  stories  entertain  the  ignorant  without  griev 
ing  the  judicious  I  am  content. 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

LITTLE  BIG  HORN   MEDICINE 3 

SPECIMEN  JONES 36 

THE  SERENADE  AT   SISKIYOU 64 

THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF 82 

SALVATION  GAP 115 

THE  SECOND  MISSOURI  COMPROMISE 131 

LA  TINAJA  BONITA 159 

A  PILGRIM  ON  THE  GILA 211 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


SPECIMEN  JONES Frontispiece 

"BOASTING  IN   INDIAN   FASHION" Facing  page     6 

"HIS  HORSE  DREW  CLOSE,  SHOVING  THE  HORSE 

OF  THE  MEDICINE-MAN" "        14 

"THE  HEAD  LAY  IN  THE  WATER"     ....  "        34 

AN  APACHE "        38 

CUMNOR'S  AWAKENING "        52 

THE  MEXICAN  FREIGHT-WAGON "        58 

"'AIN'T  Y'U  GOT  SOMETHING  TO  SELL?'"   .    .  "go 

THE  CHARGE "         IO2 

"HE  HESITATED  TO   KILL  THE  WOMAN".      .      .  "         1 12 

THE   SHOT-GUN   MESSENGER 122 

"'I'D   LIKE  TO   HAVE   IT   OVER*" 128 

"HIS   PLAN   WAS   TO   WALK   AND    KEEP   QUIET".  "         148 
"  '  DON'T  NOBODY   HURT   ANYBODY,'  SAID    SPEC 
IMEN  JONES" M       156 

"'YOU   DON'T   WANT    TO    TALK    THIS    WAY. 

YOU'RE  ALONE'" "      204 

"EACH  BLACK-HAIRED  DESERT  FIGURE".    .    .  "      238 


RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 


LITTLE  BIG  HORN   MEDICINE 

% 

SOMETHING  new  was  happening  among  the  Crow 
Indians.  A  young  pretender  had  appeared  in  the 
tribe.  What  this  might  lead  to  was  unknown  alike 
to  white  man  and  to  red  ;  but  the  old  Crow  chiefs  dis 
cussed  it  in  their  councils,  and  the  soldiers  at  Fort 
Custer,  and  the  civilians  at  the  agency  twelve  miles 
up  the  river,  and  all  the  white  settlers  in  the  valley 
discussed  it  also.  Lieutenants  Stirling  and  Haines, 
of  the  First  Cavalry,  were  speculating  upon  it  as  they 
rode  one  afternoon. 

"  Can't  tell  about  Indians,"  said  Stirling.  "  But  I 
think  the  Crows  are  too  reasonable  to  go  on  the  war 
path." 

"  Reasonable  !"  said  Haines.  He  was  young,  and 
new  to  Indians. 

"  Just  so.  Until  you  come  to  his  superstitions,  the 
Indian  can  reason  as  straight  as  you  or  I.  He's  per 
fectly  logical." 

"  Logical !"  echoed  Haines  again.  He  held  the 
regulation  Eastern  view  that  the  Indian  knows  noth 
ing  but  the  three  blind  appetites. 

"  You'd  know  better,"  remarked  Stirling,  "  if  you'd 
been  fighting  'em  for  fifteen  years.  They're  as  shrewd 
as  .#£sop's  fables." 

Just  then  two  Indians  appeared  round  a  bluff  — 


4  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

one  old  and  shabby,  the  other  young  and  very  gaudy 
— riding  side  by  side. 

"  That's  Cheschapah,"  said  Stirling.  "  That's  the 
agitator  in  all  his  feathers.  His  father,  you  see, 
dresses  more  conservatively." 

The  feathered  dandy  now  did  a  singular  thing. 
He  galloped  towards  the  two  officers  almost  as  if  to 
bear  them  down,  and,  steering  much  too  close,  flashed 
by  yelling,  amid  a  clatter  of  gravel. 

"  Nice  manners,"  commented  Haines.  "  Seems  to 
have  a  chip  on  his  shoulder." 

But  Stirling  looked  thoughtful.  "Yes,"  he  mut 
tered,  "  he  has  a  chip." 

Meanwhile  the  shabby  father  was  approaching. 
His  face  was  mild  and  sad,  and  he  might  be  seventy. 
He  made  a  gesture  of  greeting.  "  How  !"  he  said, 
pleasantly,  and  ambled  on  his  way. 

"  Now  there  you  have  an  object-lesson,"  said  Stir 
ling.  "  Old  Pounded  Meat  has  no  chip.  The  ques 
tion  is,  are  the  fathers  or  the  sons  going  to  run  the 
Crow  Nation  ?" 

**  Why  did  the  young  chap  have  a  dog  on  his  sad 
dle  ?"  inquired  Haines. 

"I  didn't  notice  it.  For  his  supper,  probably — 
probably  he's  getting  up  a  dance.  He  is  scheming  to 
be  a  chief.  Says  he  is  a  medicine-man,  and  can  make 
water  boil  without  fire ;  but  the  big  men  of  the  tribe 
take  no  stock  in  him — not  yet.  They've  seen  soda- 
water  before.  But  I'm  told  this  water-boiling  aston 
ishes  the  young." 

"  You  say  the  old  chiefs  take  no  stock  in  him  yet  1" 

"  Ah,  that's  the  puzzle.  I  told  you  just  now  Ind 
ians  could  reason." 

"  And  I  was  amused." 


LITTLE    BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  5 

"Because  you're  an  Eastern  man.  I  tell  you, 
Haines,  if  it  wasn't  my  business  to  shoot  Indians  I'd 
study  them." 

"  You're  a  crank,"  said  Haines. 

But  Stirling  was  not  a  crank.  He  knew  that  so  far 
from  being  a  mere  animal,  the  Indian  is  of  a  subtlety 
more  ancient  than  the  Sphinx.  In  his  primal  brain 
— nearer  nature  than  our  own — the  directness  of  a 
child  mingles  with  the  profoundest  cunning.  He  be 
lieves  easily  in  powers  of  light  and  darkness,  yet  is  a 
sceptic  all  the  while.  Stirling  knew  this ;  but  he 
could  not  know  just  when,  if  ever,  the  young  charlatan 
Cheschapah  would  succeed  in  cheating  the  older 
chiefs ;  just  when,  if  ever,  he  would  strike  the  chord 
of  their  superstition.  Till  then  they  would  reason 
that  the  white  man  was  more  comfortable  as  a  friend 
than  as  a  foe,  that  rations  and  gifts  of  clothes  and 
farming  implements  were  better  than  battles  and  pris 
ons.  Once  their  superstition  was  set  alight,  these 
three  thousand  Crows  might  suddenly  follow  Ches 
chapah  to  burn  and  kill  and  destroy. 

"  How  does  he  manage  his  soda-water,  do  you  sup 
pose  ?"  inquired  Haines. 

"That's  mysterious.  He  has  never  been  known  to 
buy  drugs,  and  he's  careful  where  he  does  his  trick. 
He's  still  a  little  afraid  of  his  father.  All  Indians 
are.  It's  queer  where  he  was  going  with  that  dog." 

Hard  galloping  sounded  behind  them,  and  a  cour 
ier  from  the  Indian  agency  overtook  and  passed 
them,  hurrying  to  Fort  Custer.  The  officers  hurried 
too,  and,  arriving,  received  news  and  orders.  Forty 
Sioux  were  reported  up  the  river  coming  to  visit  the 
Crows.  It  was  peaceable,  but  untimely.  The  Sioux 
agent  over  at  Pine  Ridge  had  given  these  forty  per- 


6  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

mission  to  go,  without  first  finding  out  if  it  would  be 
convenient  to  the  Crow  agent  to  have  them  come.  It 
is  a  rule  of  the  Indian  Bureau  that  if  one  tribe  desire 
to  visit  another,  the  agents  of  both  must  consent. 
Now,  most  of  the  Crows  were  farming  and  quiet,  and 
it  was  not  wise  that  a  visit  from  the  Sioux  and  a  sea 
son  of  feasting  should  tempt  their  hearts  and  minds 
away  from  the  tilling  of  the  soil.  The  visitors  must 
be  taken  charge  of  and  sent  home. 

"Very  awkward,  though,"  said  Stirling  to  Haines. 
He  had  been  ordered  to  take  two  troops  and  arrest 
the  unoffending  visitors  on  their  way.  "  The  Sioux 
will  be  mad,  and  the  Crows  will  be  madder.  What  a 
bungle !  and  how  like  the  way  we  manage  Indian  af 
fairs  !"  And  so  they  started. 

Thirty  miles  away,  by  a  stream  towards  which  Stir 
ling  with  his  command  was  steadily  marching  through 
the  night,  the  visitors  were  gathered.  There  was  a 
cook-fire  and  a  pot,  and  a  stewing  dog  leaped  in  the 
froth.  Old  men  in  blankets  and  feathers  sat  near  it, 
listening  to  young  Cheschapah's  talk  in  the  flighty 
lustre  of  the  flames.  An  old  squaw  acted  as  inter 
preter  between  Crow  and  Sioux.  Round  about,  at  a 
certain  distance,  the  figures  of  the  crowd  lounged  at 
the  edge  of  the  darkness.  Two  grizzled  squaws 
stirred  the  pot,  spreading  a  clawed  fist  to  their  eyes 
against  the  red  heat  of  the  coals,  while  young  Ches- 
chapah  harangued  the  older  chiefs. 

"  And  more  than  that,  I,  Cheschapah,  can  do,"  said 
he,  boasting  in  Indian  fashion.  "  I  know  how  to 
make  the  white  man's  heart  soft  so  he  cannot  fight." 
He  paused  for  effect,  but  his  hearers  seemed  unin 
terested.  "  You  have  come  pretty  far  to  see  us," 
resumed  the  orator,  "  and  I,  and  my  friend  Two 


LITTLE   BIG    HORN    MEDICINE  7 

Whistles,  and  my  father,  Pounded  Meat,  have  come  a 
day  to  meet  you  and  bring  you  to  our  place.  I  have 
brought  you  a  fat  dog.  I  say  it  is  good  the  Crow 
and  the  Sioux  shall  be  friends.  All  the  Crow  chiefs 
are  glad.  Pretty  Eagle  is  a  big  chief,  and  he  will  tell 
you  what  I  tell  you.  But  I  am  bigger  than  Pretty 
Eagle.  I  am  a  medicine-man." 

He  paused  again ;  but  the  grim  old  chiefs  were 
looking  at  the  fire,  and  not  at  him.  He  got  a  friendly 
glance  from  his  henchman,  Two  Whistles,  but  he 
heard  his  father  give  a  grunt. 

That  enraged  him.  "  I  am  a  medicine-man,"  he 
repeated,  defiantly.  "  I  have  been  in  the  big  hole  in 
the  mountains  where  the  river  goes,  and  spoken  there 
with  the  old  man  who  makes  the  thunder.  I  talked 
with  him  as  one  chief  to  another.  I  am  going  to  kill 
all  the  white  men." 

At  this  old  Pounded  Meat  looked  at  his  son  angrily, 
but  the  son  was  not  afraid  of  his  father  just  then.  "  I 
can  make  medicine  to  bring  the  rain,"  he  continued. 
"  I  can  make  water  boil  when  it  is  cold.  With  this  I 
can  strike  the  white  man  blind  when  he  is  so  far  that 
his  eyes  do  not  show  his  face." 

He  swept  out  from  his  blanket  an  old  cavalry  sabre 
painted  scarlet.  Young  Two  Whistles  made  a  move 
ment  of  awe,  but  Pounded  Meat  said,  "  My  son's 
tongue  has  grown  longer  than  his  sword." 

Laughter  sounded  among  the  old  chiefs.  Chescha- 
pah  turned  his  impudent  yet  somewhat  visionary  face 
upon  his  father.  "  What  do  you  know  of  medicine  ?" 
said  he.  "  Two  sorts  of  Indians  are  among  the  Crows 
to-day,"  he  continued  to  the  chiefs.  "One  sort  are 
the  fathers,  and  the  sons  are  the  other.  The  young 
warriors  are  not  afraid  of  the  white  man.  The  old 


8  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

plant  corn  with  the  squaws.  Is  this  the  way  with  the 
Sioux  ?" 

"  With  the  Sioux,"  remarked  a  grim  visitor,  "  no  one 
fears  the  white  man.  But  the  young  warriors  do  not 
talk  much  in  council." 

Pounded  Meat  put  out  his  hand  gently,  as  if  in  re 
monstrance.  Other  people  must  not  chide  his  son. 

"  You  say  you  can  make  water  boil  with  no  fire  ?" 
pursued  the  Sioux,  who  was  named  Young-man-afraid- 
of-his-horses,  and  had  been  young  once. 

Pounded  Meat  came  between.  "  My  son  is  a  good 
man,"  said  he.  "  These  words  of  his  are  not  made 
in  the  heart,  but  are  head  words  you  need  not  count. 
Cheschapah  does  not  like  peace.  He  has  heard  us 
sing  our  wars  and  the  enemies  we  have  killed,  and  he 
remembers  that  he  has  no  deeds,  being  young.  When 
he  thinks  of  this  sometimes  he  talks  words  without 
sense.  But  my  son  is  a  good  man." 

The  father  again  extended  his  hand,  which  trem 
bled  a  little.  The  Sioux  had  listened,  looking  at  him 
with  respect,  and  forgetful  of  Cheschapah,  who  now 
stood  before  them  with  a  cup  of  cold  water. 

"  You  shall  see,"  he  said,  "  who  it  is  that  talks  words 
without  sense." 

Two  Whistles  and  the  young  bucks  crowded  to 
watch,  but  the  old  men  sat  where  they  were.  As 
Cheschapah  stood  relishing  his  audience,  Pounded 
Meat  stepped  up  suddenly  and  upset  the  cup.  He 
went  to  the  stream  and  refilled  it  himself.  "Now 
make  it  boil,"  said  he. 

Cheschapah  smiled,  and  as  he  spread  his  hand 
quickly  over  the  cup,  the  water  foamed  up. 

"  Huh  !"  said  Two  Whistles,  startled. 

The   medicine -man   quickly  seized   his   moment. 


LITTLE    BIG   HORN    MEDICINE  g 

"What  does  Pounded  Meat  know  of  my  medicine?" 
said  he.  "The  dog  is  cooked.  Let  the  dance  be 
gin." 

The  drums  set  up  their  dull,  blunt  beating,  and 
the  crowd  of  young  and  less  important  bucks  came 
from  the  outer  circle  nearer  to  the  council.  Chescha- 
pah  set  the  pot  in  the  midst  of  the  flat  camp,  to  be 
the  centre  of  the  dance.  None  of  the  old  chiefs  said 
more  to  him,  but  sat  apart  with  the  empty  cup,  hav 
ing  words  among  themselves.  The  flame  reared  high 
into  the  dark,  and  showed  the  rock  wall  towering 
close,  and  at  its  feet  the  light  lay  red  on  the  stream 
ing  water.  The  young  Sioux  stripped  naked  of  their 
blankets,  hanging  them  in  a  screen  against  the  wind 
from  the  jaws  of  the  canon,  with  more  constant 
shouts  as  the  drumming  beat  louder,  and  strokes  of 
echo  fell  from  the  black  cliffs.  The  figures  twinkled 
across  each  other  in  the  glare,  drifting  and  alert,  till 
the  dog-dance  shaped  itself  into  twelve  dancers  with 
a  united  sway  of  body  and  arms,  one  and  another 
singing  his  song  against  the  lifted  sound  of  the 
drums.  The  twelve  sank  crouching  in  simulated 
hunt  for  an  enemy  back  and  forth  over  the  same 
space,  swinging  together. 

Presently  they  sprang  with  a  shout  upon  their  feet, 
for  they  had  taken  the  enemy.  Cheschapah,  leading 
the  line  closer  to  the  central  pot,  began  a  new  figure, 
dancing  the  pursuit  of  the  bear.  This  went  faster ; 
and  after  the  bear  was  taken,  followed  the  elk-hunt, 
and  a  new  sway  and  crouch  of  the  twelve  gesturing 
bodies.  The  thudding  drums  were  ceaseless ;  and  as 
the  dance  went  always  faster  and  always  nearer  the  dog 
pot,  the  steady  blows  of  sound  inflamed  the  dancers ; 
their  chests  heaved,  and  their  arms  and  bodies  swung 


10  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

alike  as  the  excited  crew  filed  and  circled  closer  to 
the  pot,  following  Cheschapah,  and  shouting  uncon 
trollably.  They  came  to  firing  pistols  and  slashing 
the  air  with  knives,  when  suddenly  Cheschapah 
caught  up  a  piece  of  steaming  dog  from  the  pot,  gave 
it  to  his  best  friend,  and  the  dance  was  done.  The 
dripping  figures  sat  quietly,  shining  and  smooth  with 
sweat,  eating  their  dog-flesh  in  the  ardent  light  of  the 
fire  and  the  cool  splendor  of  the  moon.  By-and-by 
they  lay  in  their  blankets  to  sleep  at  ease. 

The  elder  chiefs  had  looked  with  distrust  at  Ches 
chapah  as  he  led  the  dance ;  now  that  the  entertainment 
was  over,  they  rose  with  gravity  to  go  to  their  beds. 

"It  is  good  for  the  Sioux  and  the  Crows  to  be 
friends,"  said  Pounded  Meat  to  Young-man -afraid-of- 
his-horses.  "  But  we  want  no  war  with  the  white 
man.  It  is  a  few  young  men  who  say  that  war  is 
good  now." 

"We  have  not  come  for  war,"  replied  the  Sioux. 
"  We  have  come  to  eat  much  meat  together,  and  re 
member  that  day  when  war  was  good  on  the  Little 
Horn,  and  our  warriors  killed  Yellow  Hair  and  all  his 
soldiers." 

Pounded  Meat  came  to  where  he  and  Cheschapah 
had  their  blankets. 

"  We  shall  have  war,"  said  the  confident  son  to  his 
father.  "  My  medicine  is  good." 

"  Peace  is  also  pretty  good,"  said  Pounded  Meat. 
"  Get  new  thoughts.  My  son,  do  you  not  care  any 
more  for  my  words  ?" 

Cheschapah  did  not  reply. 

"  I  have  lived  a  long  while.  Yet  one  man  may  be 
wrong.  But  all  cannot  be*.  The  other  chiefs  say  what 
I  say.  The  white  men  are  too  strong." 


LITTLE    BIG    HORN    MEDICINE  n 

"  They  would  not  be  too  strong  if  the  old  men  were 
not  cowards." 

"  Have  done,"  said  the  father,  sternly.  "  If  you 
are  a  medicine-man,  do  not  talk  like  a  light  fool." 

The  Indian  has  an  "  honor  thy  father  "  deep  in  his 
religion  too,  and  Cheschapah  was  silent.  But  after 
he  was  asleep,  Pounded  Meat  lay  brooding.  He  felt 
himself  dishonored,  and  his  son  to  be  an  evil  in  the 
tribe.  With  these  sore  notions  keeping  him  awake, 
he  saw  the  night  wane  into  gray,  and  then  he  heard 
the  distant  snort  of  a  horse.  He  looked,  and  started 
from  his  blankets,  for  the  soldiers  had  come,  and  he 
ran  to  wake  the  sleeping  Indians.  Frightened,  and 
ignorant  why  they  should  be  surrounded,  the  Sioux 
leaped  to  their  feet ;  and  Stirling,  from  where  he  sat 
on  his  horse,  saw  their  rushing,  frantic  figures. 

"  Go  quick,  Kinney,"  he  said  to  the  interpreter, 
"  and  tell  them  it's  peace,  or  they'll  be  firing  on  us." 

Kinney  rode  forward  alone,  with  one  hand  raised ; 
and  seeing  that  sign,  they  paused,  and  crept  nearer, 
like  crafty  rabbits,  while  the  sun  rose  and  turned  the 
place  pink.  And  then  came  the  parley,  and  the  long 
explanation ;  and  Stirling  thanked  his  stars  to  see 
they  were  going  to  allow  themselves  to  be  peaceably 
arrested.  Bullets  you  get  used  to ;  but  after  the  fir 
ing's  done,  you  must  justify  it  to  important  person 
ages  who  live  comfortably  in  Eastern  towns  and  have 
never  seen  an  Indian  in  their  lives,  and  are  rancid 
with  philanthropy  and  ignorance. 

Stirling  would  sooner  have  faced  Sioux  than  sen 
timentalists,  and  he  was  fervently  grateful  to  these 
savages  for  coming  with  him  quietly  without  obliging 
him  to  shoot  them.  Cheschapah  was  not  behaving 
so  amiably ;  and  recognizing  him,  Stirling  understood 


12  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

about  the  dog.  The  medicine-man,  with  his  faithful 
Two  Whistles,  was  endeavoring  to  excite  the  prison 
ers  as  they  were  marched  down  the  river  to  the  Crow 
Agency. 

Stirling  sent  for  Kinney.  "  Send  that  rascal  away," 
he  said.  "  I'll  not  have  him  bothering  here." 

The  interpreter  obeyed,  but  with  a  singular  smile 
to  himself.  When  he  had  ordered  Cheschapah  away, 
he  rode  so  as  to  overhear  Stirling  and  Haines  talking. 
When  they  speculated  about  the  soda-water,  Kinney 
smiled  again.  He  was  a  quiet  sort  of  man.  The 
people  in  the  valley  admired  his  business  head.  He 
supplied  grain  and  steers  to  Fort  Custer,  and  used 
to  say  that  business  was  always  slow  in  time  of 
peace. 

By  evening  Stirling  had  brought  his  prisoners  to 
the  agency,  and  there  was  the  lieutenant  of  Indian 
police  of  the  Sioux  come  over  from  Pine  Ridge  to 
bring  them  home.  There  was  restlessness  in  the  air 
as  night  fell  round  the  prisoners  and  their  guard.  It 
was  Cheschapah's  hour,  and  the  young  Crows  listened 
while  he  declaimed  against  the  white  man  for  thwart 
ing  their  hospitality.  The  strong  chain  of  sentinels 
was  kept  busy  preventing  these  hosts  from  breaking 
through  to  fraternize  with  their  guests.  Cheschapah 
did  not  care  that  the  old  Crow  chiefs  would  not  listen. 
When  Pretty  Eagle  remarked  laconically  that  peace 
was  good,  the  agitator  laughed ;  he  was  gaining  a  fac 
tion,  and  the  faction  was  feeling  its  oats.  Accord 
ingly,  next  morning,  though  the  prisoners  were  meek 
on  being  started  home  by  Stirling  with  twenty  sol 
diers,  and  the  majority  of  the  Crows  were  meek  at 
seeing  them  thus  started,  this  was  not  all.  Chescha 
pah,  with  a  yelling  swarm  of  his  young  friends,  began 


LITTLE   BIG   HORN    MEDICINE  13 

to  buzz  about  the  column  as  it  marched  up  the  river. 
All  had  rifles. 

"  It's  an  interesting  state  of  affairs,"  said  Stirling  to 
Haines.  "  There  are  at  least  fifty  of  these  devils  at 
our  heels  now,  and  more  coming.  We've  got  twenty 
men.  Haines,  your  Indian  experiences  may  begin 
quite  early  in  your  career." 

"Yes,  especially  if  our  prisoners  take  to  kicking." 

"  Well,  to  compensate  for  spoiling  their  dinner 
party,  the  agent  gave  them  some  rations  and  his  part 
ing  blessing.  It  may  suffice." 

The  line  of  march  had  been  taken  up  by  ten  men 
in  advance,  followed  in  the  usual  straggling  fashion 
by  the  prisoners,  and  the  rear -guard  was  composed  of 
the  other  ten  soldiers  under  Stirling  and  Haines. 
With  them  rode  the  chief  of  the  Crow  police  and  the 
lieutenant  of  the  Sioux.  This  little  band  was,  of 
course,  far  separated  from  the  advance-guard,  and  it 
listened  to  the  young  Crow  bucks  yelling  at  its  heels. 
They  yelled  in  English.  Every  Indian  knows  at  least 
two  English  words  \  they  are  pungent,  and  far  from 
complimentary. 

"  It's  got  to  stop  here,"  said  Stirling,  as  they  came 
to  a  ford  known  as  Reno's  Crossing.  "  They've  got 
to  be  kept  on  this  side." 

"Can  it  be  done  without  gunpowder?"  Haines 
asked. 

"  If  a  shot  is  fired  now,  my  friend,  it's  war,  and  a 
court  of  inquiry  in  Washington  for  you  and  me,  if 
we're  not  buried  here.  Sergeant,  you  will  take  five 
men  and  see  the  column  is  kept  moving.  The  rest 
remain  with  me.  The  prisoners  must  be  got  across 
and  away  from  their  friends." 

The  fording  began,  and  the  two  officers  went  over 


I4  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

to  the  east  bank  to  see  that  the  instructions  were  car 
ried  out. 

"See  that?"  observed  Stirling.  As  the  last  of  the 
rear-guard  stepped  into  the  stream,  the  shore  they 
were  leaving  filled  instantly  with  the  Crows.  "  Every 
man  jack  of  them  is  armed.  And  here's  an  interest 
ing  development,"  he  continued. 

It  was  Cheschapah  riding  out  into  the  water,  and 
with  him  Two  Whistles.  The  rear  guard  passed  up 
the  trail,  and  the  little  knot  of  men  with  the  officers 
stood  halted  on  the  bank.  There  were  nine — the 
two  Indian  police,  the  two  lieutenants,  and  five  long 
muscular  boys  of  K  troop  of  the  First  Cavalry.  They 
remained  on  the  bank,  looking  at  the  thick  painted 
swarm  that  yelled  across  the  ford. 

"  Bet  you  there's  a  hundred,"  remarked  Haines. 

"  You  forget  I  never  gamble,"  murmured  Stirling. 
Two  of  the  five  long  boys  overheard  this,  and  grinned 
at  each  other,  which  Stirling  noted ;  and  he  loved  them. 
It  was  curious  to  mark  the  two  shores  :  the  feathered 
multitude  and  its  yells  and  its  fifty  yards  of  rifles 
that  fronted  a  small  spot  of  white  men  sitting  easily 
in  the  saddle,  and  the  clear,  pleasant  water  speeding 
between.  Cheschapah  and  Two  Whistles  came  taunt 
ingly  towards  this  spot,  and  the  mass  of  Crows  on 
the  other  side  drew  forward  a  little. 

"  You  tell  them,"  said  Stirling  to  the  chief  of  the 
Crow  police,  "  that  they  must  go  back." 

Cheschapah  came  nearer,  by  way  of  obedience. 

"Take  them  over,  then,"  the  officer  ordered. 

The  chief  of  Crow  police  rode  to  Cheschapah, 
speaking  and  pointing.  His  horse  drew  close,  shov 
ing  the  horse  of  the  medicine-man,  who  now  launched 
an  insult  that  with  Indians  calls  for  blood.  He  struck 


LITTLE   BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  15 

the  man's  horse  with  his  whip,  and  at  that  a  volume 
of  yells  chorussed  from  the  other  bank. 

"  Looks  like  the  court  of  inquiry,"  remarked  Stir 
ling.  "  Don't  shoot,  boys,"  he  commanded  aloud. 

The  amazed  Sioux  policeman  gasped.  "  You  not 
shoot  ?"  he  said.  "  But  he  hit  that  man's  horse — all 
the  same  hit  your  horse,  all  the  same  hit  you." 

"Right.  Quite  right,"  growled  Stirling.  "  All  the 
same  hit  Uncle  Sam.  But  we  soldier  devils  have  or 
ders  to  temporize."  His  eye  rested  hard  and  serious 
on  the  party  in  the  water  as  he  went  on  speaking  with 
jocular  unconcern.  "  Tem-po-rize,  Johnny,"  said  he. 
"  You  savvy  temporize  ?" 

"  Ump  !     Me  no  savvy." 

"  Bully  for  you,  Johnny.  Too  many  syllables.  Well, 
now !  he's  hit  that  horse  again.  One  more  for  the 
court  of  inquiry.  Steady,  men  !  There's  Two  Whis 
tles  switching  now.  They  ought  to  call  that  lad 
Young  Dog  Tray.  And  there's  a  chap  in  paint  fool 
ing  with  his  gun.  If  any  more  do  that — it's  very 
catching —  Yes,  we're  going  to  have  a  circus.  Atten 
tion  !  Now  what's  that,  do  you  suppose  ?" 

An  apparition,  an  old  chief,  came  suddenly  on  the 
other  bank,  pushing  through  the  crowd,  grizzled  and 
little  and  lean,  among  the  smooth,  full -limbed  young 
blood.  They  turned  and  saw  him,  and  slunk  from 
the  tones  of  his  voice  and  the  light  in  his  ancient  eye. 
They  swerved  and  melted  among  the  cotton-woods, 
so  that  the  ford's  edge  grew  bare  of  dusky  bodies  and 
looked  sandy  and  green  again.  Cheschapah  saw  the 
wrinkled  figure  coming,  and  his  face  sank  tame.  He 
stood  uncertain  in  the  stream,  seeing  his  banded 
companions  gone  and  the  few  white  soldiers  firm  on 
the  bank.  The  old  chief  rode  to  him  through  the 


|6  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

water,  his  face  brightened  with  a  last  flare  of  com 
mand. 

"  Make  your  medicine  !"  he  said.  "  Why  are  the 
white  men  not  blind  ?  Is  the  medicine  bad  to-day  ?" 
And  he  whipped  his  son's  horse  to  the  right,  and  to 
the  left  he  slashed  the  horse  of  Two  Whistles,  and, 
whirling  the  leather  quirt,  drove  them  cowed  before 
him  and  out  of  the  stream,  with  never  a  look  or  word 
to  the  white  men.  He  crossed  the  sandy  margin,  and 
as  a  man  drives  steers  to  the  corral,  striking  spurs  to 
his  horse  and  following  the  frightened  animals  close 
when  they  would  twist  aside,  so  did  old  Pounded 
Meat  herd  his  son  down  the  valley. 

"  Useful  old  man,"  remarked  Stirling;  "and  brings 
up  his  children  carefully.  Let's  get  these  prisoners 
along." 

"  How  rural  the  river  looks  now  !"  Haines  said,  as 
they  left  the  deserted  bank. 

So  the  Sioux  went  home  in  peace,  the  lieutenants, 
with  their  command  of  twenty,  returned  to  the  post, 
and  all  white  people  felt  much  obliged  to  Pounded 
Meat  for  his  act  of  timely  parental  discipline — all  ex 
cept  one  white  person. 

Sol  Kinney  sauntered  into  the  agency  store  one 
evening.  "  I  want  ten  pounds  of  sugar,"  said  he, 
"  and  navy  plug  as  usual.  And  say,  I'll  take  another 
bottle  of  the  Seltzer  fizz  salts.  Since  I  quit  whis 
key,"  he  explained,  "  my  liver's  poorly." 

He  returned  with  his  purchase  to  his  cabin,  and 
set  a  lamp  in  the  window.  Presently  the  door  opened 
noiselessly,  and  Cheschapah  came  in. 

"  Maybe  you  got  that  now  ?"  he  said,  in  English. 

The  interpreter  fumbled  among  bottles  of  liniment 
and  vaseline,  and  from  among  these  household  reme- 


LITTLE   BIG    HORN   MEDICINE  17 

dies  brought  the  blue  one  he  had  just  bought.  Ches- 
chapah  watched  him  like  a  child,  following  his  steps 
round  the  cabin.  Kinney  tore  a  half-page  from  an 
old  Sunday  World,  and  poured  a  little  heap  of  salts 
into  it.  The  Indian  touched  the  heap  timidly  with 
his  finger.  "  Maybe  no  good,"  he  suggested. 

"  Heap  good !"  said  the  interpreter,  throwing  a 
pinch  into  a  glass.  When  Cheschapah  saw  the  water 
effervesce,  he  folded  his  newspaper  with  the  salt  into 
a  tight  lump,  stuck  the  talisman  into  his  clothes,  and 
departed,  leaving  Mr.  Kinney  well  content.  He  was 
doing  his  best  to  nourish  the  sinews  of  war,  for  busi 
ness  in  the  country  was  discouragingly  slack. 

Now  the  Crows  were  a  tribe  that  had  never  warred 
with  us,  but  only  with  other  tribes ;  they  had  been 
valiant  enough  to  steal  our  cattle,  but  sufficiently  dis 
creet  to  stop  there ;  and  Kinney  realized  that  he  had 
uphill  work  before  him.  His  dearest  hopes  hung  upon 
Cheschapah,  in  whom  he  thought  he  saw  a  develop 
ment.  From  being  a  mere  humbug,  the  young  Ind 
ian  seemed  to  be  getting  a  belief  in  himself  as  some 
thing  genuinely  out  of  the  common.  His  success  in 
creating  a  party  had  greatly  increased  his  conceit, 
and  he  walked  with  a  strut,  and  his  face  was  more 
unsettled  and  visionary  than  ever.  One  clear  sign  of 
his  mental  change  was  that  he  no  longer  respected 
his  father  at  all,  though  the  lonely  old  man  looked  at 
him  often  with  what  in  one  of  our  race  would  have 
been  tenderness.  Cheschapah  had  been  secretly  ma 
turing  a  plot  ever  since  his  humiliation  at  the  cross 
ing,  and  now  he  was  ready.  With  his  lump  of  news 
paper  carefully  treasured,  he  came  to  Two  Whistles. 

"  Now  we  go,"  he  said.  "  We  shall  fight  with  the 
Piegans.  I  will  make  big  medicine,  so  that  we  shall 


18  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

get  many  of  their  horses  and  women.  Then  Pretty 
Eagle  will  be  afraid  to  go  against  me  in  the  council. 
Pounded  Meat  whipped  my  horse.  Pounded  Meat 
can  cut  his  hay  without  Cheschapah,  since  he  is  so 
strong." 

But  little  Two  Whistles  wavered.  "  I  will  stay  here," 
he  ventured  to  say  to  the  prophet. 

"  Does  Two  Whistles  think  I  cannot  do  what  I  say  ?" 

"  I  think  you  make  good  medicine." 

"  You  are  afraid  of  the  Piegans." 

"  No,  I  am  not  afraid.  I  have  hay  the  white  man 
will  pay  me  for.  If  I  go,  he  will  not  pay  me.  If  I 
had  a  father,  I  would  not  leave  him."  He  spoke 
pleadingly,  and  his  prophet  bore  him  down  by  ridi 
cule.  Two  Whistles  believed,  but  he  did  not  want  to 
lose  the  money  the  agent  was  to  pay  for  his  hay.  And 
so,  not  so  much  because  he  believed  as  because  he 
was  afraid,  he  resigned  his  personal  desires. 

The  next  morning  the  whole  band  had  disappeared 
with  Cheschapah.  The  agent  was  taken  aback  at 
this  marked  challenge  to  his  authority — of  course 
they  had  gone  without  permission — and  even  the  old 
Crow  chiefs  held  a  council. 

Pretty  Eagle  resorted  to  sarcasm.  "  He  has  taken 
his  friends  to  the  old  man  who  makes  the  thunder," 
he  said.  But  others  did  not  feel  sarcastic,  and  one 
observed,  "  Cheschapah  knows  more  than  we  know." 

"Let  him  make  rain,  then,"  said  Pretty  Eagle. 
"  Let  him  make  the  white  man's  heart  soft." 

The  situation  was  assisted  by  a  step  of  the  careful 
Kinney.  He  took  a  private  journey  to  Junction  City, 
through  which  place  he  expected  Cheschapah  to  re 
turn,  and  there  he  made  arrangements  to  have  as 
much  whiskey  furnished  to  the  Indian  and  his  friends 


LITTLE    BIG    HORN    MEDICINE  ig 

as  they  should  ask  for.  It  was  certainly  a  good 
stroke  of  business.  The  victorious  raiders  did  return 
that  way,  and  Junction  City  was  most  hospitable  to 
their  thirst.  The  valley  of  the  Big  Horn  was  res 
onant  with  their  homeward  yells.  They  swept  up 
the  river,  and  the  agent  heard  them  coming,  and  he 
locked  his  door  immediately.  He  listened  to  their 
descent  upon  his  fold,  and  he  peeped  out  and  saw 
them  ride  round  the  tightly  shut  buildings  in  their 
war-paint  and  the  pride  of  utter  success.  They  had 
taken  booty  from  the  Piegans,  and  now,  knocking  at 
the  store,  they  demanded  ammunition,  proclaiming  at 
the  same  time  in  English  that  Cheschapah  was  a  big 
man,  and  knew  a  "big  heap  medicine."  The  agent 
told  them  from  inside  that  they  could  not  have  any 
ammunition.  He  also  informed  them  that  he  knew 
who  they  were,  and  that  they  were  under  arrest.  This 
touched  their  primitive  sense  of  the  incongruous.  On 
the  buoyancy  of  the  whiskey  they  rode  round  and 
round  the  store  containing  the  agent,  and  then  rushed 
away,  firing  shots  at  the  buildings  and  shots  in  the 
air,  and  so  gloriously  home  among  their  tribe,  while 
the  agent  sent  a  courier  packing  to  Fort  Custer. 

The  young  bucks  who  had  not  gone  on  the  raid  to 
the  Piegans  thronged  to  hear  the  story,  and  the  war 
riors  told  it  here  and  there,  walking  in  their  feathers 
•among  a  knot  of  friends,  who  listened  with  gay  ex 
clamations  of  pleasure  and  envy.  Great  was  Ches 
chapah,  who  had  done  all  this  !  And  one  and  another 
told  exactly  and  at  length  how  he  had  seen  the  cold 
water  rise  into  foam  beneath  the  medicine  -  man's 
hand  ;  it  could  not  be  told  too  often  ;  not  every  com 
panion  of  Cheschapah's  had  been  accorded  the  privi 
lege  of  witnessing  this  miracle,  and  each  narrator  in 


20  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

his  circle  became  a  wonder  himself  to  the  bold  boy 
ish  faces  that  surrounded  him.  And  after  the  miracle 
he  told  how  the  Piegans  had  been  like  a  flock  of 
birds  before  the  medicine-man.  Cheschapah  himself 
passed  among  the  groups,  alone  and  aloof ;  he  spoke 
to  none,  and  he  looked  at  none,  and  he  noted  how 
their  voices  fell  to  whispers  as  he  passed;  his  ear 
caught  the  magic  words  of  praise  and  awe ;  he  felt 
the  gaze  of  admiration  follow  him  away,  and  a  mist 
rose  like  incense  in  his  brain.  He  wandered  among 
the  scattered  tepees,  and,  turning,  came  along  the  same 
paths  again,  that  he  might  once  more  overhear  his 
worshippers.  Great  was  Cheschapah !  His  heart 
beat,  a  throb  of  power  passed  through  his  body,  and 
"Great  is  Cheschapah  !"  said  he,  aloud ;  for  the  fumes 
of  hallucination  wherewith  he  had  drugged  others  had 
begun  to  make  him  drunk  also.  He  sought  a  tepee 
where  the  wife  of  another  chief  was  alone,  and  at  his 
light  call  she  stood  at  the  entrance  and  heard  him 
longer  than  she  had  ever  listened  to  him  before.  But 
she  withstood  the  temptation  that  was  strong  in  the 
young  chief's  looks  and  words.  She  did  not  speak 
much,  but  laughed  unsteadily,  and,  shaking  her  head 
with  averted  eyes,  left  him,  and  went  where  several 
women  were  together,  and  sat  among  them. 

Cheschapah  told  his  victory  to  the  council,  with 
many  sentences  about  himself,  and  how  his  medicine" 
had  fended  all  hurt  from  the   Crows.      The   elder 
chiefs  sat  cold. 

"  Ump !"  said  one,  at  the  close  of  the  oration,  and 
"  Heh !"  remarked  another.  The  sounds  were  of  as 
sent  without  surprise. 

"  It  is  good,"  said  Pretty  Eagle.  His  voice  seemed 
to  enrage  Cheschapah. 


LITTLE   BIG   MORN    MEDICINE  21 

"  Heh !  it  is  always  pretty  good !"  remarked  Spotted 
Horse. 

"  I  have  done  this  too,"  said  Pounded  Meat  to  his 
son,  simply.  "  Once,  twice,  three  times.  The  Crows 
have  always  been  better  warriors  than  the  Piegans." 

"  Have  you  made  water  boil  like  me  ?"  Cheschapah 
said. 

"  I  am  not  a  medicine  -  man,"  replied  his  father. 
"  But  I  have  taken  horses  and  squaws  from  the  Pie- 
gans.  You  make  good  medicine,  maybe ;  but  a  cup 
of  water  will  not  kill  many  white  men.  Can  you 
make  the  river  boil  ?  Let  Cheschapah  make  bigger 
medicine,  so  the  white  man  shall  fear  him  as  well  as 
the  Piegans,  whose  hearts  are  well  known  to  us." 

Cheschapah  scowled.  "  Pounded  Meat  shall  have 
this,"  said  he.  "  I  will  make  medicine  to-morrow,  old 
fool !" 

"  Drive  him  from  the  council !"  said  Pretty  Eagle. 

"  Let  him  stay,"  said  Pounded  Meat.  "  His  bad 
talk  was  not  to  the  council,  but  to  me,  and  I  do  not 
count  it." 

But  the  medicine -man  left  the  presence  of  the 
chiefs,  and  came  to  the  cabin  of  Kinney. 

"  Hello  !"  said  the  white  man.     "  Sit  down." 

"  You  got  that  ?"  said  the  Indian,  standing. 

"  More  water  medicine  ?  I  guess  so.  Take  a 
seat." 

"  No,  not  boil  any  more.     You  got  that  other  ?" 

"  That  other,  eh  ?  Well,  now,  you're  not  going  to 
blind  them  yet  ?  What's  your  hurry  ?" 

"  Yes.     Make  blind  to-morrow.     Me  great  chief !" 

A  slight  uneasiness  passed  across  the  bantering 
face  of  Kinney.  His  Seltzer  salts  performed  what 
he  promised,  but  he  had  mentioned  another  miracle, 


22  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

and  he  did  not  want  his  dupe  to  find  him  out  until  a 
war  was  thoroughly  set  agoing.  He  looked  at  the 
young  Indian,  noticing  his  eyes. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  anyway,Cheschapah?" 

"  Me  great  chief !"  The  raised  voice  trembled 
with  unearthly  conviction. 

"Well,  I  guess  you  are.  I  guess  you've  got  pretty 
far  along,"  said  the  frontier  cynic.  He  tilted  his 
chair  back  and  smiled  at  the  child  whose  primitive 
brain  he  had  tampered  with  so  easily.  The  child 
stood  looking  at  him  with  intent  black  eyes.  "  Bet 
ter  wait,  Cheschapah.  Come  again.  Medicine  heap 
better  after  a  while." 

The  Indian's  quick  ear  caught  the  insincerity  with 
out  understanding  it.  "You  give  me  that  quick  !"  he 
said,  suddenly  terrible. 

"Oh,  all  right,  Cheschapah.  You  know  more 
medicine  than  me." 

"Yes,  I  know  more." 

The  white  man  brought  a  pot  of  scarlet  paint,  and 
the  Indian's  staring  eyes  contracted.  Kinney  took 
the  battered  cavalry  sabre  in  his  hand,  and  set  its 
point  in  the  earth  floor  of  the  cabin.  "  Stand  back," 
he  said,  in  mysterious  tones,  and  Cheschapah  shrank 
from  the  impending  sorcery.  Now  Kinney  had  been 
to  school  once,  in  his  Eastern  childhood,  and  there 
had  committed  to  memory  portions  of  Shakespeare, 
Mrs.  Hemans,  and  other  poets  out  of  a  Reader.  He 
had  never  forgotten  a  single  word  of  any  of  them, 
and  it  now  occurred  to  him  that  for  the  purposes  of 
an  incantation  it  would  be  both  entertaining  for  him 
self  and  impressive  to  Cheschapah  if  he  should  recite 
"The  Battle  of  Hohenlinden."  He  was  drawing 
squares  and  circles  with  the  point  of  the  sabre. 


LITTLE   BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  23 

"  No,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  that  piece  won't  do. 
He  knows  too  much  English.  Some  of  them  words 
might  strike  him  as  bein'  too  usual,  and  he'd  start  to 
kill  me,  and  spoil  the  whole  thing.  '  Munich '  and 
*  chivalry '  are  snortin',  but  '  sun  was  low '  ain't  worth 
a  damn.  I  guess — " 

He  stopped  guessing,  for  the  noon  recess  at  school 
came  in  his  mind,  like  a  picture,  and  with  it  certain 
old-time  preliminaries  to  the  game  of  tag. 

"  '  Eeny,  meeny,  money,  my,'  " 

said  Kinney,  tapping  himself,  the  sabre,  the  paint-pot, 
and  Cheschapah  in  turn,  one  for  each  word.  The  in 
cantation  was  begun.  He  held  the  sabre  solemnly 
upright,  while  Cheschapah  tried  to  control  his  excited 
breathing  where  he  stood  flattened  against  the  wall. 

"  '  Butter,  leather,  boney,  stry  ; 
Hare-bit,  frost-neck, 
Harrico,  barrico,  whee,  why,  whoa,  whack  !' 

You're  it,  Cheschapah."  After  that  the  weapon  was 
given  its  fresh  coat  of  paint,  and  Cheschapah  went 
away  with  his  new  miracle  in  the  dark. 

"  He  is  it,"  mused  Kinney,  grave,  but  inwardly 
lively.  He  was  one  of  those  sincere  artists  who  need 
no  popular  commendation.  "  And  whoever  he  does 
catch,  it  won't  be  me,"  he  concluded.  He  felt  pretty 
sure  there  would  be  war  now. 

Dawn  showed  the  summoned  troops  near  the  agen 
cy  at  the  corral,  standing  to  horse.  Cheschapah 
gathered  his  hostiles  along  the  brow  of  the  ridge  in 
the  rear  of  the  agency  buildings,  and  the  two  forces 
watched  each  other  across  the  intervening  four  hun 
dred  yards. 


24  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  There  they  are,"  said  the  agent,  jumping  about. 
"  Shoot  them,  colonel ;  shoot  them  !" 

"You  can't  do  that,  you  know,"  said  the  officer, 
"without  an  order  from  the  President,  or  an  overt 
act  from  the  Indians." 

So  nothing  happened,  and  Cheschapah  told  his 
friends  the  white  men  were  already  afraid  of  him.  He 
saw  more  troops  arrive,  water  their  horses  in  the  river, 
form  line  outside  the  corral,  and  dismount.  He  made 
ready  at  this  movement,  and  all  Indian  on-lookers  scat 
tered  from  the  expected  fight.  Yet  the  white  man 
stayed  quiet.  It  was  issue  day,  but  no  families  re 
mained  after  drawing  their  rations.  They  had  had 
no  dance  the  night  before,  as  was  usual,  and  they  did 
not  linger  a  moment  now,  but  came  and  departed  with 
their  beef  and  flour  at  once. 

"  I  have  done  all  this,"  said  Cheschapah  to  Two 
Whistles. 

"  Cheschapah  is  a  great  man,"  assented  the  friend 
and  follower.  He  had  gone  at  once  to  his  hay-field 
on  his  return  from  the  Piegans,  but  some  one  had 
broken  the  little  Indian's  fence,  and  cattle  were  wan 
dering  in  what  remained  of  his  crop. 

"Our  nation  knows  I  will  make  a  war,  and  there 
fore  they  do  not  stay  here,"  said  the  medicine-man, 
caring  nothing  what  Two  Whistles  might  have  suf 
fered.  "  And  now  they  will  see  that  the  white  sol 
diers  dare  not  fight  with  Cheschapah.  The  sun  is 
high  now,  but  they  have  not  moved  because  I  have 
stopped  them.  Do  you  not  see  it  is  my  medicine  ?" 

"  We  see  it."     It  was  the  voice  of  the  people. 

But  a  chief  spoke.  "  Maybe  they  wait  for  us  to 
come." 

Cheschapah  answered.     "  Their  eyes  shall  be  made 


LITTLE    BIG    HORN   MEDICINE  25 

sick.  I  will  ride  among  them,  but  they  will  not  know 
it."  He  galloped  away  alone,  and  lifted  his  red  sword 
as  he  sped  along  the  ridge  of  the  hills,  showing  against 
the  sky.  Below  at  the  corral  the  white  soldiers  waited 
ready,  and  heard  him  chanting  his  war  song  through 
the  silence  of  the  day.  He  turned  in  a  long  curve, 
and  came  in  near  the  watching  troops  and  through 
the  agency,  and  then,  made  bolder  by  their  motion 
less  figures  and  guns  held  idle,  he  turned  again  and 
flew,  singing,  along  close  to  the  line,  so  they  saw  his 
eyes ;  and  a  few  that  had  been  talking  low  as  they 
stood  side  by  side  fell  silent  at  the  spectacle.  They 
could  not  shoot  until  some  Indian  should  shoot. 
They  watched  him  and  the  gray  pony  pass  and  return 
to  the  hostiles  on  the  hill.  Then  they  saw  the  hos- 
tiles  melt  away  like  magic.  Their  prophet  had  told 
them  to  go  to  their  tepees  and  wait  for  the  great  rain 
he  would  now  bring.  It  was  noon,  and  the  sky  utterly 
blue  over  the  bright  valley.  The  sun  rode  a  space 
nearer  the  west,  and  the  thick  black  clouds  assembled 
in  the  mountains  and  descended ;  their  shadow  flooded 
the  valley  with  a  lake  of  slatish  blue,  and  presently 
the  sudden  torrents  sluiced  down  with  flashes  and  the 
ample  thunder  of  Montana.  Thus  not  alone  the  law 
against  our  soldiers  firing  the  first  shot  in  an  Indian 
excitement,  but  now  also  the  elements  coincided  to 
help  the  medicine-man's  destiny. 

Cheschapah  sat  in  a  tepee  with  his  father,  and  as 
the  rain  splashed  heavily  on  the  earth  the  old  man 
gazed  at  the  young  one. 

"  Why  do  you  tremble,  my  son  ?  You  have  made 
the  white  soldier's  heart  soft,"  said  Pounded  Meat. 
"You  are  indeed  a  great  man,  my  son." 

Cheschapah  rose.     "  Do  not  call  me  your  son," 


26  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

said  he.  "  That  is  &  lie."  He  went  out  into  the  fury 
of  the  rain,  lifting  his  face  against  the  drops,  and  ex- 
ultingly  calling  out  at  each  glare  of  the  lightning.  He 
went  to  Pretty  Eagle's  young  squaw,  who  held  off 
from  him  no  longer,  but  got  on  a  horse,  and  the  two 
rode  into  the  mountains.  Before  the  sun  had  set,  the 
sky  was  again  utterly  blue,  and  a  cool  scent  rose  every 
where  in  the  shining  valley. 

The  Crows  came  out  of  their  tepees,  and  there  were 
the  white  soldiers  obeying  orders  and  going  away. 
They  watched  the  column  slowly  move  across  the  flat 
land  below  the  bluffs,  where  the  road  led  down  the 
river  twelve  miles  to  the  post. 

"  They  are  afraid,"  said  new  converts.  "  Chescha- 
pah's  rain  has  made  their  hearts  soft." 

"They  have  not  all  gone,"  said  Pretty  Eagle. 
"  Maybe  he  did  not  make  enough  rain."  But  even 
Pretty  Eagle  began  to  be  shaken,  and  he  heard  sev 
eral  of  his  brother  chiefs  during  the  next  few  days 
openly  declare  for  the  medicine-man.  Cheschapah 
with  his  woman  came  from  the  mountains,  and  Pretty 
Eagle  did  not  dare  to  harm  him.  Then  another  coin 
cidence  followed  that  was  certainly  most  reassuring  to 
the  war  party.  Some  of  them  had  no  meat,  and  told 
Cheschapah  they  were  hungry.  With  consummate 
audacity  he  informed  them  he  would  give  them  plenty 
at  once.  On  the  same  day  another  timely  electric 
storm  occurred  up  the  river,  and  six  steers  were  struck 
by  lightning. 

When  the  officers  at  Fort  Custer  heard  of  this  they 
became  serious. 

"  If  this  was  not  the  nineteenth  century,"  said 
Haines,  "  I  should  begin  to  think  the  elements  were 
deliberately  against  us." 


LITTLE    BIG    HORN    MEDICINE  27 

"  It's  very  careless  of  the  weather,"  said  Stirling. 
"  Very  inconsiderate,  at  such  a  juncture." 

Yet  nothing  more  dangerous  than  red-tape  hap 
pened  for  a  while.  There  was  an  expensive  quantity 
of  investigation  from  Washington,  and  this  gave  the 
hostiles  time  to  increase  both  in  faith  and  numbers. 

Among  the  excited  Crows  only  a  few  wise  old  men 
held  out.  As  for  Cheschapah  himself,  ambition  and 
success  had  brought  him  to  the  weird  enthusiasm 
of  a  fanatic.  He  was  still  a  charlatan,  but  a  charla 
tan  who  believed  utterly  in  his  star.  He  moved 
among  his  people  with  growing  mystery,  and  his  hap 
less  adjutant,  Two  Whistles,  rode  with  him,  slaved  for 
him,  abandoned  the  plans  he  had  for  making  himself 
a  farm,  and,  desiring  peace  in  his  heart,  weakly  cast 
his  lot  with  war.  Then  one  day  there  came  an  order 
from  the  agent  to  all  the  Indians :  they  were  to  come 
in  by  a  certain  fixed  day.  The  department  com 
mander  had  assembled  six  hundred  troops  at  the  post, 
and  these  moved  up  the  river  and  went  into  camp. 
The  usually  empty  ridges,  and  the  bottom  where  the 
road  ran,  filled  with  white  and  red  men.  Half  a  mile 
to  the  north  of  the  buildings,  on  the  first  rise  from  the 
river,  lay  the  cavalry,  and  some  infantry  above  them 
with  a  howitzer,  while  across  the  level,  three  hundred 
yards  opposite,  along  the  river-bank,  was  the  main 
Indian  camp.  Even  the  hostiles  had  obeyed  the 
agent's  order,  and  came  in  close  to  the  troops,  totally 
unlike  hostiles  in  general ;  for  Cheschapah  had  told 
them  he  would  protect  them  with  his  medicine,  and 
they  shouted  and  sang  all  through  this  last  night. 
The  women  joined  with  harsh  cries  and  shriekings, 
and  a  scalp-dance  went  on,  besides  lesser  commotions 
and  gatherings,  with  the  throbbing  of  drums  every- 


28  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

where.  Through  the  sleepless  din  ran  the  barking  of 
a  hundred  dogs,  that  herded  and  hurried  in  crowds 
of  twenty  at  a  time,  meeting,  crossing  from  fire  to  fire 
among  the  tepees.  Their  yelps  rose  to  the  high 
bench  of  land,  summoning  a  horde  of  coyotes.  These 
cringing  nomads  gathered  from  the  desert  in  a  tramp 
army,  and,  skulking  down  the  bluffs,  sat  in  their  outer 
darkness  and  ceaselessly  howled  their  long,  shrill 
greeting  to  the  dogs  that  sat  in  the  circle  of  light. 
The  general  sent  scouts  to  find  the  nature  of  the 
dance  and  hubbub,  and  these  brought  word  it  was 
peaceful;  and  in  the  morning  another  scout  sum 
moned  the  elder  chiefs  to  a  talk  with  the  friend  who 
had  come  from  the  Great  Father  at  Washington  to 
see  them  and  find  if  their  hearts  were  good. 

"Our  hearts  are  good,"  said  Pretty  Eagle.  "We 
do  not  want  war.  If  you  want  Cheschapah,  we  will 
drive  him  out  from  the  Crows  to  you." 

"  There  are  other  young  chiefs  with  bad  hearts,"  said 
the  commissioner,  naming  the  ringleaders  that  were 
known.  He  made  a  speech,  but  Pretty  Eagle  grew 
sullen.  "It  is  well,"  said  the  commissioner;  "you 
will  not  help  me  to  make  things  smooth,  and  now  I 
step  aside  and  the  war  chief  will  talk." 

"  If  you  want  any  other  chiefs,"  said  Pretty  Eagle, 
"  come  and  take  them." 

"  Pretty  Eagle  shall  have  an  hour  and  a  half  to  think 
on  my  words,"  said  the  general.  "  I  have  plenty  of 
men  behind  me  to  make  my  words  good.  You  must 
send  me  all  those  Indians  who  fired  at  the  agency." 

The  Crow  chiefs  returned  to  the  council,  which  was 
apart  from  the  war  party's  camp ;  and  Cheschapah 
walked  in  among  them,  and  after  him,  slowly,  old  Pound 
ed  Meat,  to  learn  how  the  conference  had  gone. 


LITTLE   BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  29 

"You  have  made  a  long  talk  with  the  white  man,"  said 
Cheschapah.  "Talk  is  pretty  good  for  old  men.  I  and 
the  young  chiefs  will  fight  now  and  kill  our  enemies." 

"  Cheschapah,"  said  Pounded  Meat,  "  if  your  medi 
cine  is  good,  it  may  be  the  young  chiefs  will  kill  our 
enemies  to-day.  But  there  are  other  days  to  come, 
and  after  them  still  others ;  there  are  many,  many  days. 
My  son,  the  years  are  a  long  road.  The  life  of  one 
man  is  not  long,  but  enough  to  learn  this  thing  truly  : 
the  white  man  will  always  return.  There  was  a  day 
on  this  river  when  the  dead  soldiers  of  Yellow  Hair 
lay  in  hills,  and  the  squaws  of  the  Sioux  warriors 
climbed  among  them  with  their  knives.  What  do  the 
Sioux  warriors  do  now  when  they  meet  the  white  man 
on  this  river?  Their  hearts  are  on  the  ground,  and 
they  go  home  like  children  when  the  white  man  says, 
'  You  shall  not  visit  your  friends.'  My  son,  I  thought 
war  was  good  once.  I  have  kept  you  from  the  arrows 
of  our  enemies  on  many  trails  when  you  were  so  little 
that  my  blankets  were  enough  for  both.  Your  moth 
er  was  not  here  any  more,  and  the  chiefs  laughed  be 
cause  I  carried  you.  Oh,  my  son,  I  have  seen  the 
hearts  of  the  Sioux  broken  by  the  white  man,  and  I  do 
not  think  war  is  good." 

"  The  talk  of  Pounded  Meat  is  very  good,"  said 
Pretty  Eagle.  "  If  Cheschapah  were  wise  like  his  fa 
ther,  this  trouble  would  not  have  come  to  the  Crows. 
But  we  could  not  give  the  white  chief  so  many  of  our 
chiefs  that  he  asked  for  to-day." 

Cheschapah  laughed.  "  Did  he  ask  for  so  many  ? 
He  wanted  only  Cheschapah,  who  is  not  wise  like 
Pounded  Meat." 

"  You  would  have  been  given  to  him,"  said  Pretty 
Eagle. 


30  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

"Did  Pretty  Eagle  tell  the  white  chief  that?  Did 
he  say  he  would  give  Cheschapah  ?  How  would  he 
give  me?  In  one  hand,  or  two?  Or  would  the  old 
warrior  take  me  to  the  white  man's  camp  on  the 
horse  his  young  squaw  left?" 

Pretty  Eagle  raised  his  rifle,  and  Pounded  Meat, 
quick  as  a  boy,  seized  the  barrel  and  pointed  it  up 
among  the  poles  of  the  tepee,  where  the  quiet  black 
fire  smoke  was  oozing  out  into  the  air.  "  Have  you 
lived  so  long,"  said  Pounded  Meat  to  his  ancient  com 
rade,  "and  do  this  in  the  council?"  His  wrinkled 
head  and  hands  shook,  the  sudden  strength  left  him, 
and  the  rifle  fell  free. 

"  Let  Pretty  Eagle  shoot,"  said  Cheschapah,  looking 
at  the  council.  He  stood  calm,  and  the  seated  chiefs 
turned  their  grim  eyes  upon  him.  Certainty  was  in 
his  face,  and  doubt  in  theirs.  "  Let  him  send  his  bul 
let  five  times — ten  times.  Then  I  will  go  and  let  the 
white  soldiers  shoot  at  me  until  they  all  lie  dead." 

"It  is  heavy  for  me,"  began  Pounded  Meat,  "that 
my  friend  should  be  the  enemy  of  my  son." 

"  Tell  that  lie  no  more,"  said  Cheschapah.  "  You 
are  not  my  father.  I  have  made  the  white  man  blind, 
and  I  have  softened  his  heart  with  the  rain.  I  will 
call  the  rain  to-day."  He  raised  his  red  sword,  and 
there  was  a  movement  among  the  sitting  figures. 
"  The  clouds  will  come  from  rny  father's  place,  where 
I  have  talked  with  him  as  one  chief  to  another.  My 
mother  went  into  the  mountains  to  gather  berries. 
She  was  young,  and  the  thunder-maker  saw  her  face. 
Pie  brought  the  black  clouds,  so  her  feet  turned  from 
home,  and  she  walked  where  the  river  goes  into  the 
great  walls  of  the  mountain,  and  that  day  she  was 
stricken  fruitful  by  the  lightning.  You  are  not  the 


LITTLE    BIG    HORN  MEDICINE  31 

father  of  Cheschapah."  He  dealt  Pounded  Meat  a 
blow,  and  the  old  man  fell.  But  the  council  sat  still 
until  the  sound  of  Cheschapah's  galloping  horse  died 
away.  They  were  ready  now  to  risk  everything.  Their 
scepticism  was  conquered. 

The  medicine-man  galloped  to  his  camp  of  hostiles, 
and,  seeing  him,  they  yelled  and  quickly  finished  plaiting 
their  horses'  tails.  Cheschapah  had  accomplished  his 
wish;  he  had  become  the  prophet  of  all  the  Crows,  and 
he  led  the  armies  of  the  faithful.  Each  man  stripped 
his  blanket  off  and  painted  his  body  for  the  fight. 
The  forms  slipped  in  and  out  of  the  brush,  buckling 
their  cartridge-belts,  bringing  their  ponies,  while  many 
families  struck  their  tepees  and  moved  up  nearer  the 
agency.  The  spare  horses  were  run  across  the  river 
into  the  hills,  and  through  the  yelling  that  shifted  and 
swept  like  flames  along  the  wind  the  hostiles  made 
ready  and  gathered,  their  crowds  quivering  with  mo 
tion,  and  changing  place  and  shape  as  more  mo  anted 
Indians  appeared. 

"  Are  the  holes  dug  deep  as  I  marked  them  on  the 
earth  ?"  said  Cheschapah  to  Two  Whistles.  "  That  is 
good.  We  shall  soon  have  to  go  into  them  from  the 
great  rain  I  will  bring.  Make  these  strong,  to  stay  as 
we  ride.  They  are  good  medicine,  and  with  them  the 
white  soldiers  will  not  see  you  any  more  than  they  saw 
me  when  I  rode  among  them  that  day." 

He  had  strips  and  capes  of  red  flannel,  and  he  and 
Two  Whistles  fastened  them  to  their  painted  bodies. 

"  You  will  let  me  go  with  you  ?"  said  Two  Whistles. 

"  You  are  my  best  friend,"  said  Cheschapah,  "  and 
to-day  I  will  take  you.  You  shall  see  my  great  medi 
cine  when  I  make  the  white  man's  eyes  grow  sick." 

The  two  rode  forward,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty 


32  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

followed  them,  bursting  from  their  tepees  like  an  ex< 
plosion,  and  rushing  along  quickly  in  skirmish-line. 
Two  Whistles  rode  beside  his  speeding  prophet,  and 
saw  the  red  sword  waving  near  his  face,  and  the  sun 
in  the  great  still  sky,  and  the  swimming,  fleeting  earth. 
His  superstition  and  the  fierce  ride  put  him  in  a  sort 
of  trance. 

"  The  medicine  is  beginning!"  shouted  Cheschapah; 
and  at  that  Two  Whistles  saw  the  day  grow  large  with 
terrible  shining,  and  heard  his  own  voice  calling  and 
could  not  stop  it.  They  left  the  hundred  and  fifty  be 
hind,  he  knew  not  where  or  when.  He  saw  the  line 
of  troops  ahead  change  to  separate  waiting  shapes  of 
men,  and  their  legs  and  arms  become  plain  ;  then  all 
the  guns  took  clear  form  in  lines  of  steady  glitter.  He 
seemed  suddenly  alone  far  ahead  of  the  band,  but  the 
voice  of  Cheschapah  spoke  close  by  his  ear  through 
the  singing  wind,  and  he  repeated  each  word  without 
understanding ;  he  was  watching  the  ground  rush  by, 
lest  it  might  rise  against  his  face,  and  all  the  while  he 
felt  his  horse's  motion  under  him,  smooth  and  per 
petual.  Something  weighed  against  his  leg,  and  there 
was  Cheschapah  he  had  forgotten,  always  there  at  his 
side,  veering  him  around  somewhere.  But  there  was 
no  red  sword  waving.  Then  the  white  men  must  be 
blind  already,  wherever  they  were,  and  Cheschapah, 
the  only  thing  he  could  see,  sat  leaning  one  hand  on 
his  horse's  rump  firing  a  pistol.  The  ground  came 
swimming  towards  his  eyes  always,  smooth  and  wide 
like  a  gray  flood,  but  Two  Whistles  knew  that  Ches 
chapah  would  not  let  it  sweep  him  away.  He  saw  a 
horse  without  a  rider  floated  out  of  blue  smoke,  and 
floated  in  again  with  a  cracking  noise ;  white  soldiers 
moved  in  a  row  across  his  eyes,  very  small  and  clear, 


LITTLE   BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  33 

and  broke  into  a  blurred  eddy  of  shapes  which  the 
flood  swept  away  clean  and  empty.  Then  a  dead 
white  man  came  by  on  the  quick  flood.  Two  Whistles 
saw  the  yellow  stripe  on  his  sleeve ;  but  he  was  gone, 
and  there  was  nothing  but  sky  and  blaze,  with  Ches- 
chapah's  head-dress  in  the  middle.  The  horse's  even 
motion  continued  beneath  him,  when  suddenly  the 
head-dress  fell  out  of  Two  Whistles'  sight,  and  the  * 
earth  returned.  They  were  in  brush,  with  his  horse 
standing  and  breathing,  and  a  dead  horse  on  the 
ground  with  Cheschapah,  and  smoke  and  moving  peo 
ple  everywhere  outside.  He  saw  Cheschapah  run 
from  the  dead  horse  and  jump  on  a  gray  pony  and  go. 
Somehow  he  was  on  the  ground  too,  looking  at  a  red 
sword  lying  beside  his  face.  He  stared  at  it  a  long 
while,  then  took  it  in  his  hand,  still  staring ;  all  at 
once  he  rose  and  broke  it  savagely,  and  fell*  again. 
His  faith  was  shivered  to  pieces  like  glass.  But  he 
got  on  his  horse,  and  the  horse  moved  away.  He  was 
looking  at  the  blood  running  on  his  body.  The  horse 
moved  always,  and  Two  Whistles  followed  with  his  eye 
a  little  deeper  gush  of  blood  along  a  crease  in  his 
painted  skin,  noticed  the  flannel,  and  remembering  the 
lie  of  his  prophet,  instantly  began  tearing  the  red  rags 
from  his  body,  and  flinging  them  to  the  ground  with 
cries  of  scorn.  Presently  he  heard  some  voices,  and 
soon  one  voice  much  nearer,  and  saw  he  had  come  to 
a  new  place,  where  there  were  white  soldiers  looking 
at  him  quietly.  One  was  riding  up  and  telling  him  to 
give  up  his  pistol.  Two  Whistles  got  off  and  stood 
behind  his  horse,  looking  at  the  pistol.  The  white 
soldier  came  quite  near,  and  at  his  voice  Two  Whistles 
moved  slowly  out  from  behind  the  horse,  and  listened 
to  the  cool  words  as  the  soldier  repeated  his  command. 

3 


34  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

The  Indian  was  pointing  his  pistol  uncertainly,  and  he 
looked  at  the  soldier's  coat  and  buttons,  and  the  straps 
on  the  shoulders,  and  the  bright  steel  sabre,  and  the 
white  man's  blue  eyes ;  then  Two  Whistles  looked  at 
his  own  naked,  clotted  body,  and,  turning  the  pistol 
against  himself,  fired  it  into  his  breast. 

Far  away,  up  the  river,  on  the  right  of  the  line,  a 
lieutenant  with  two  men  was  wading  across  after  some 
hostiles  that  had  been  skirmishing  with  his  troop.  The 
hostiles  had  fallen  back  after  some  hot  shooting,  and 
had  dispersed  among  the  brush  and  tepees  on  the 
farther  shore,  picking  up  their  dead,  as  Indians  do. 
It  was  interesting  work,  this  splashing  breast-high 
through  a  river  into  a  concealed  hornets'-nest,  and  the 
lieutenant  thought  a  little  on  his  unfinished  plans  and 
duties  in  life ;  he  noted  one  dead  Indian  left  on  the 
shore,  and  went  steadfastly  in  among  the  half-seen 
tepees,  rummaging  and  beating  in  the  thick  brush  to 
be  sure  no  hornets  remained.  Finding  them  gone, 
and  their  dead  spirited  away,  he  came  back  on  the 
bank  to  the  one  dead  Indian,  who  had  a  fine  head 
dress,  and  was  still  ribanded  with  gay  red  streamers  of 
flannel,  and  was  worth  all  the  rest  of  the  dead  put  to 
gether,  and  much  more.  The  head  lay  in  the  water,  and 
one  hand  held  the  rope  of  the  gray  pony,  who  stood 
quiet  and  uninterested  over  his  fallen  rider.  They  be 
gan  carrying  the  prize  across  to  the  other  bank,  where 
many  had  now  collected,  among  others  Kinney  and 
the  lieutenant's  captain,  who  subsequently  said,  "  I 
found  the  body  of  Cheschapah ;"  and,  indeed,  it  was  a 
very  good  thing  to  be  able  to  say. 

"  This  busts  the  war,"  said  Kinney  to  the  captain, 
as  the  body  was  being  lifted  over  the  Little  Horn. 
"They  know  he's  killed,  and  they've  all  quit.  I  was 


LITTLE    BIG   HORN   MEDICINE  35 

up  by  the  tepees  near  the  agency  just  now,  and  I  could 
see  the  hostiles  jamming  back  home  for  dear  life. 
They  was  chucking  their  rifles  to  the  squaws,  and 
jumping  in  the  river — ha  !  ha ! — to  wash  off  their  war 
paint,  and  each would  crawl  out  and  sit 

innercint  in  the  family  blanket  his  squaw  had  ready. 
If  you  was  to  go  there  now,  cap'n,  you'd  find  just  a  lot 
of  harmless  Injuns  eatin'  supper  like  all  the  year 
round.  Let  me  help  you,  boys,  with  that  carcass." 

Kinney  gave  a  hand  to  the  lieutenant  and  men  of 
G  troop,  First  United  States  Cavalry,  and  they  lifted 
Cheschapah  up  the  bank.  In  the  tilted  position  of 
the  body  the  cartridge-belt  slid  a  little,  and  a  lump  of 
newspaper  fell  into  the  stream.  Kinney  watched  it 
open  and  float  away  with  a  momentary  effervescence. 
The  dead  medicine-man  was  laid  between  the  white 
and  red  camps,  that  all  might  see  he  could  be  killed 
like  other  people;  and  this  wholesome  discovery 
brought  the  Crows  to  terms  at  once.  Pretty  Eagle 
had  displayed  a  flag  of  truce,  and  now  he  surrendered 
the  guilty  chiefs  whose  hearts  had  been  bad.  Every 
one  came  where  the  dead  prophet  lay  to  get  a  look  at 
him.  For  a  space  of  hours  Pretty  Eagle  and  the  many 
other  Crows  he  had  deceived  rode  by  in  single  file, 
striking  him  with  their  whips  ;  after  them  came  a  young 
squaw,  and  she  also  lashed  the  upturned  face. 

This  night  was  untroubled  at  the  agency,  and  both 
camps  and  the  valley  lay  quiet  in  the  peaceful  dark. 
Only  Pounded  Meat,  alone  on  the  top  of  a  hill, 
mourned  for  his  son  ;  and  his  wailing  voice  sounded 
through  the  silence  until  the  new  day  came.  Then 
the  general  had  him  stopped  and  brought  in,  for  it 
might  be  that  the  old  man's  noise  would  unsettle  the 
Crows  again. 


SPECIMEN   JONES 

EPHRAIM,  the  proprietor  of  Twenty  Mile,  had 
wasted  his  day  in  burying  a  man.  He  did  not  know 
the  man.  He  had  found  him,  or  what  the  Apaches 
had  left  of  him,  sprawled  among  some  charred  sticks 
just  outside  the  Canon  del  Oro.  It  was  a  useful  dis 
covery  in  its  way,  for  otherwise  Ephraim  might  have 
gone  on  hunting  his  strayed  horses  near  the  canon, 
and  ended  among  charred  sticks  himself.  Very  likely 
the  Indians  were  far  away  by  this  time,  but  he  re 
turned  to  Twenty  Mile  with  the  man  tied  to  his  sad 
dle,  and  his  pony  nervously  snorting.  And  now  the 
day  was  done,  and  the  man  lay  in  the  earth,  and  they 
had  even  built  a  fence  round  him ;  for  the  hole  was 
pretty  shallow,  and  coyotes  have  a  way  of  smelling 
this  sort  of  thing  a  long  way  off  when  they  are  hun 
gry,  and  the  man  was  not  in  a  coffin.  They  were 
always  short  of  coffins  in  Arizona. 

Day  was  done  at  Twenty  Mile,  and  the  customary 
activity  prevailed  inside  that  flat-roofed  cube  of  mud. 
Sounds  of  singing,  shooting,  dancing,  and  Mexican 
tunes  on  the  concertina  came  out  of  the  windows 
hand  in  hand,  to  widen  and  die  among  the  hills.  A 
limber,  pretty  boy,  who  might  be  nineteen,  was  dan 
cing  energetically,  while  a  grave  old  gentleman,  with 
tobacco  running  down  his  beard,  pointed  a  pistol  at 


SPECIMEN   JONES  37 

the  boy's  heels,  and  shot  a  hole  in  the  earth  now  and 
then  to  show  that  the  weapon  was  really  loaded. 
Everybody  was  quite  used  to  all  of  this — excepting 
the  boy.  He  was  an  Eastern  new-comer,  passing  his 
first  evening  at  a  place  of  entertainment. 

Night  in  and  night  out  every  guest  at  Twenty  Mile 
was  either  happy  and  full  of  whiskey,  or  else  his 
friends  were  making  arrangements  for  his  funeral. 
There  was  water  at  Twenty  Mile — the  only  water  for 
twoscore  of  miles.  Consequently  it  was  an  impor 
tant  station  on  the  road  between  the  southern  coun 
try  and  Old  Gamp  Grant,  and  the  new  mines  north 
of  the  Mescal  Range.  The  stunt,  liquor-perfumed 
adobe  cabin  lay  on  the  gray  floor  of  the  desert  like 
an  isolated  slab  of  chocolate.  A  corral,  two  deso 
late  stable -sheds,  and  the  slowly  turning  windmill 
were  all  else.  Here  Ephraim  and  one  or  two  helpers 
abode,  armed  against  Indians,  and  selling  whiskey. 
Variety  in  their  vocation  of  drinking  and  killing  was 
brought  them  by  the  travellers.  These  passed  and 
passed  through  the  glaring  vacant  months — some 
days  only  one  ragged  fortune-hunter,  riding  a  pony ; 
again  by  twos  and  threes,  with  high-loaded  burros ; 
and  sometimes  they  came  in  companies,  walking  be 
side  their  clanking  freight-wagons.  Some  were  young, 
and  some  were  old,  and  all  drank  whiskey,  and  wore 
knives  and  guns  to  keep  each  other  civil.  Most  of 
them  were  bound  for  the  mines,  and  some  of  them 
sometimes  returned.  No  man  trusted  the  next  man, 
and  their  names,  when  they  had  any,  would  be  O'Raf- 
ferty,  Angus,  Schwartzmeyer,  Jose  Maria,  and  Smith. 
All  stopped  for  one  night ;  some  longer,  remaining 
drunk  and  profitable  to  Ephraim ;  now  and  then  one 
stayed  permanently,  and  had  a  fence  built  round  him. 


38  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

Whoever  came,  and  whatever  befell  them,  Twenty 
Mile  was  chronically  hilarious  after  sundown — a  dot 
of  riot  in  the  dumb  Arizona  night. 

On  this  particular  evening  they  had  a  tenderfoot. 
The  boy,  being  new  in  Arizona,  still  trusted  his  neigh 
bor.  Such  people  turned  up  occasionally.  This  one 
had  paid  for  everybody's  drink  several  times,  because 
he  felt  friendly,  and  never  noticed  that  nobody  ever 
paid  for  his.  They  had  played  cards  with  him,  stolen 
his  spurs,  and  now  they  were  making  him  dance.  It 
was  an  ancient  pastime ;  yet  two  or  three  were  glad 
to  stand  round  and  watch  it,  because  it  was  some  time 
since  they  had  been  to  the  opera.  Now  the  tender 
foot  had  misunderstood  these  friends  at  the  beginning, 
supposing  himself  to  be  among  good  fellows,  and  they 
therefore  naturally  set  him  down  as  a  fool.  But  even 
while  dancing  you  may  learn  much,  and  suddenly. 
The  boy,  besides  being  limber,  had  good  tough  black 
hair,  and  it  was  not  in  fear,  but  with  a  cold  blue  eye, 
that  he  looked  at  the  old  gentleman.  The  trouble  had 
been  that  his  own  revolver  had  somehow  hitched,  so 
he  could  not  pull  it  from  the  holster  at  the  necessary 
moment. 

"  Tried  to  draw  on  me,  did  yer?"  said  the  old  gen 
tleman.  "  Step  higher !  Step,  now,  or  I'll  crack  open 
yer  kneepans,  ye  robin's  egg." 

"Thinks  he's  having  a  bad  time,"  remarked  Ephra- 
im.  "  Wonder  how  he'd  like  to  have  been  that  man 
the  Injuns  had  sport  with  ?" 

"  Weren't  his  ear  funny  ?"  said  one  who  had  helped 
bury  the  man. 

"  Ear  ?"  said  Ephraim.  "  You  boys  ought  to  been 
along  when  I  found  him,  and  seen  the  way  they'd  fixed 
up  his  mouth."  Ephraim  explained  the  details  sim- 


AN    APACHE 


SPECIMEN    JONES  39 

ply,  and  the  listeners  shivered.  But  Ephraim.  was  a 
humorist.  "  Wonder  how  it  feels,"  he  continued,  "  to 
have—" 

Here  the  boy  sickened  at  his  comments  and  the 
loud  laughter.  Yet  a  few  hours  earlier  these  same 
half-drunken  jesters  had  laid  the  man  to  rest  with  de 
cent  humanity.  The  boy  was  taking  his  first  dose  of 
Arizona.  By  no  means  Was  everybody  looking  at  his 
jig.  They  had  seen  tenderfeet  so  often.  There  was  a 
Mexican  game  of  cards ;  there  was  the  concertina ; 
and  over  in  the  corner  sat  Specimen  Jones,  with  his 
back  to  the  company,  singing  to  himself.  Nothing 
had  been  said  or  done  that  entertained  him  in  the 
least.  He  had  seen  everything  quite  often. 

"  Higher  !  skip  higher,  you  elegant  calf,"  remarked 
the  old  gentleman  to  the  tenderfoot.  "High-yer!" 
And  he  placidly  fired  a  fourth  shot  that  scraped  the 
boy's  boot  at  the  ankle  and  threw  earth  over  the  clock, 
so  that  you  could  not  tell  the  minute  from  the  hour 
hand. 

"  *  Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes,'  "  sang  Speci 
men  Jones,  softly.  They  did  not  care  much  for  his 
songs  in  Arizona.  These  lyrics  were  all,  or  nearly  all, 
that  he  retained  of  the  days  when  he  was  twenty,  al 
though  he  was  but  twenty-six  now. 

The  boy  was  cutting  pigeon- wings,  the  concertina 
played  "  Matamoras,"  Jones  continued  his  lyric,  when 
two  Mexicans  leaped  at  each  other,  and  the  concertina 
stopped  with  a  quack. 

"  Quit  it !"  said  Ephraim  from  behind  the  bar,  cov 
ering  the  two  with  his  weapon.  "  I  don't  want  any 
greasers  scrapping  round  here  to-night.  We've  just 
got  cleaned  up." 

It  had  been  cards,  but  the  Mexicans  made  peace, 


40  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

to  the  regret  of  Specimen  Jones.  He  had  looked  round 
with  some  hopes  of  a  crisis,  and  now  for  the  first  time 
he  noticed  the  boy. 

"Blamed  if  he  ain't  neat,"  he  said.  But  interest 
faded  from  his  eye,  and  he  turned  again  to  the  wall. 
"'Lieb  Vaterland  magst  ruhig  sein,'"  he  melodiously 
observed.  His  repertory  was  wide  and  refined.  When 
he  sang  he  was  always  grammatical. 

"  Ye  kin  stop,  kid,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  not  un 
kindly,  and  he  shoved  his  pistol  into  his  belt. 

The  boy  ceased.  He  had  been  thinking  matters  over. 
Being  lithe  and  strong,  he  was  not  tired  nor  much  out 
of  breath,  but  he  was  trembling  with  the  plan  and  the 
prospect  he  had  laid  out  for  himself.  "  Set  'em  up," 
he  said  to  Ephraim.  "  Set  'em  up  again  all  round." 

His  voice  caused  Specimen  Jones  to  turn  and  look 
once  more,  while  the  old  gentleman,  still  benevolent, 
said,  "  Yer  langwidge  means  pleasanter  than  it  sounds, 
kid."  He  glanced  at  the  boy's  holster,  and  knew  he 
need  not  keep  a  very  sharp  watch  as  to  that.  Its 
owner  had  bungled  over  it  once  already.  All  the  old 
gentleman  did  was  to  place  himself  next  the  boy  on 
the  off  side  from  the  holster  ;  any  move  the  tender 
foot's  hand  might  make  for  it  would  be  green  and  un 
skilful,  and  easily  anticipated.  The  company  lined  up 
along  the  bar,  and  the  bottle  slid  from  glass  to  glass. 
The  boy  and  his  tormentor  stood  together  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  line,  and  the  tormentor,  always  with  half  a 
thought  for  the  holster,  handled  his  drink  on  the  wet 
counter,  waiting  till  all  should  be  filled  and  ready  to 
swallow  simultaneously,  as  befits  good  manners. 

"  Well,  my  regards,"  he  said,  seeing  the  boy  raise 
his  glass;  and  as  the  old  gentleman's  arm  lifted  in  un 
ison,  exposing  his  waist,  the  boy  reached  down  a  light- 


SPECIMEN   JONES  41 

ning  hand,  caught  the  old  gentleman's  own  pistol,  and 
jammed  it  in  his  face. 

"  Now  you'll  dance,"  said  he. 

"  Whoop  !"  exclaimed  Specimen  Jones,  delighted. 
"Blamed  if  he  ain't  neat!"  And  Jones's  handsome 
face  lighted  keenly. 

"  Hold  on  !"  the  boy  sang  out,  for  the  amazed  old 
gentleman  was  mechanically  drinking  his  whiskey  out 
of  sheer  fright.  The  rest  had  forgotten  their  drinks. 
"Not  one  swallow,"  the  boy  continued.  "No,  you'll 
not  put  it  down  either.  You'll  keep  hold  of  it,  and 
you'll  dance  all  round  this  place.  Around  and  around. 
And  don't  you  spill  any.  And  I'll  be  thinking  what 
you'll  do  after  that." 

Specimen  Jones  eyed  the  boy  with  growing  esteem. 
"  Why,  he  ain't  bigger  than  a  pint  of  cider,"  said  he. 

"  Prance  away !"  commanded  the  tenderfoot,  and 
fired  a  shot  between  the  old  gentleman's  not  widely 
straddled  legs. 

"  You  hev  the  floor,  Mr.  Adams,"  Jones  observed, 
respectfully,  at  the  old  gentleman's  agile  leap.  "  I'll 
let  no  man  here  interrupt  you."  So  the  capering  be 
gan,  and  the  company  stood  back  to  make  room. 
"  I've  saw  juicy  things  in  this  Territory,"  continued 
Specimen  Jones,  aloud,  to  himself,  "  but  this  combina 
tion  fills  my  bill." 

He  shook  his  head  sagely,  following  the  black-haired 
boy  with  his  eye.  That  youth  was  steering  Mr.  Adams 
round  the  room  with  the  pistol,  proud  as  a  ring-master. 
Yet  not  altogether.  He  was  only  nineteen,  and  though 
his  heart  beat  stoutly,  it  was  beating  alone  in  a  strange 
country.  He  had  come  straight  to  this  from  hunting 
squirrels  along  the  Susquehanna,  with  his  mother 
keeping  supper  warm  for  him  in  the  stone  farm-house 


42  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

among  the  trees.  He  had  read  books  in  which  hardy 
heroes  saw  life,  and  always  triumphed  with  precision 
on  the  last  page,  but  he  remembered  no  receipt  for 
this  particular  situation.  Being  good  game  American 
blood,  he  did  not  think  now  about  the  Susquehanna, 
but  he  did  long  with  all  his  might  to  know  what  he 
ought  to  do  next  to  prove  himself  a  man.  His  buoy 
ant  rage,  being  glutted  with  the  old  gentleman's  fer 
vent  skipping,  had  cooled,  and  a  stress  of  reaction  was 
falling  hard  on  his  brave  young  nerves.  He  imagined 
everybody  against  him.  He  had  no  notion  that  there 
was  another  American  wanderer  there,  whose  reserved 
and  whimsical  nature  he  had  touched  to  the  heart. 

The  fickle  audience  was  with  him,  of  course,  for 
the  moment,  since  he  was  upper  dog  and  it  was  a 
good  show ;  but  one  in  that  room  was  distinctly 
against  him.  The  old  gentleman  was  dancing  with 
an  ugly  eye ;  he  had  glanced  down  to  see  just  where 
his  knife  hung  at  his  side,  and  he  had  made  some  calcu 
lations.  He  had  fired  four  shots  ;  the  boy  had  fired 
one.  "  Four  and  one  hez  always  made  five,"  the  old 
gentleman  told  himself  with  much  secret  pleasure, 
and  pretended  that  he  was  going  to  stop  his  double- 
shufrle.  It  was  an  excellent  trap,  and  the  boy  fell 
straight  into  it.  He  squandered  his  last  precious  bul 
let  on  the  spittoon  near  which  Mr.  Adams  happened 
to  be  at  the  moment,  and  the  next  moment  Mr.  Adams 
had  him  by  the  throat.  They  swayed  and  gulped  for 
breath,  rutting  the  earth  with  sharp  heels  ;  they  rolled 
to  the  floor  and  floundered  with  legs  tight  tangled, 
the  boy  blindly  striking  at  Mr.  Adams  with  the  pistol- 
butt,  and  the  audience  drawing  closer  to  lose  nothing, 
when  the  bright  knife  flashed  suddenly.  It  poised, 
and  flew  across  the  room,  harmless,  for  a  foot  had 


SPECIMEN   JONES  43 

driven  into  Mr.  Adams's  arm,  and  he  felt  a  cold  ring 
grooving  his  temple.  It  was  the  smooth,  chilly  muz 
zle  of  Specimen  Jones's  six-shooter. 

"  That's  enough,"  said  Jones.   "  More  than  enough." 

Mr.  Adams,  being  mature  in  judgment,  rose  in 
stantly,  like  a  good  old  sheep,  and  put  his  knife  back 
obedient  to  orders.  But  in  the  brain  of  the  over 
strained,  bewildered  boy  universal  destruction  was 
whirling.  With  a  face  stricken  lean  with  ferocity,  he 
staggered  to  his  feet,  plucking  at  his  obstinate  holster, 
and  glaring  for  a  foe.  His  eye  fell  first  on  his  de 
liverer,  leaning  easily  against  the  bar  watching  him, 
while  the  more  and  more  curious  audience  scattered, 
and  held  themselves  ready  to  murder  the  boy  if  he 
should  point  his  pistol  their  way.  He  was  dragging 
at  it  clumsily,  and  at  last  it  came.  Specimen  Jones 
sprang  like  a  cat,  and  held  the  barrel  vertical  and 
gripped  the  boy's  wrist. 

" Go  easy,  son,"  said  he.  "I  know  how  you're 
feelin'." 

The  boy  had  been  wrenching  to  get  a  shot  at  Jones, 
and  now  the  quietness  of  the  man's  voice  reached  his 
brain,  and  he  looked  at  Specimen  Jones.  He  felt  a 
potent  brotherhood  in  the  eyes  that  were  considering 
him,  and  he  began  to  fear  he  had  been  a  fool.  There 
was  his  dwarf  Eastern  revolver,  slack  in  his  ineffi 
cient  fist,  and  the  singular  person  still  holding  its 
barrel  and  tapping  one  derisive  finger  over  the  end, 
careless  of  the  risk  to  his  first  joint. 

"  Why,  you  little ,"  said  Specimen  Jones, 

caressingly,  to  the  hypnotized  youth,  "if  you  was  to 
pop  that  squirt  off  at  me,  I'd  turn  you  up  and  spank 
y'u.  Set  'em  up,  Ephraim." 

But  the  commercial  Ephraim  hesitated,  and  Jones 


44  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

remembered.  His  last  cent  was  gone.  It  was  his 
third  day  at  Ephraim's.  He  had  stopped,  having  a 
little  money,  on  his  way  to  Tucson,  where  a  friend 
had  a  job  for  him,  and  was  waiting.  He  was  far  too 
experienced  a  character  ever  to  sell  his  horse  or  his 
saddle  on  these  occasions,  and  go  on  drinking.  He 
looked  as  if  he  might,  but  he  never  did  ;  and  this 
was  what  disappointed  business  men  like  Ephraim 
in  Specimen  Jones. 

But  now,  here  was  this  tenderfoot  he  had  under 
taken  to  see  through,  and  Ephraim  reminding  him 
that  he  had  no  more  of  the  wherewithal.  "  Why,  so 
I  haven't,"  he  said,  with  a  short  laugh,  and  his  face 
flushed.  "  I  guess,"  he  continued,  hastily,  "  this  is 
worth  a  dollar  or  two."  He  drew  a  chain  up  from 
below  his  flannel  shirt-collar  and  over  his  head.  He 
drew  it  a  little  slowly.  It  had  not  been  taken  off  for 
a  number  of  years — not,  indeed,  since  it  had  been 
placed  there  originally.  "  It  ain't  brass,"  he  added, 
lightly,  and  strewed  it  along  the  counter  without  look 
ing  at  it.  Ephraim  did  look  at  it,  and,  being  satisfied, 
began  to  uncork  a  new  bottle,  while  the  punctual  audi 
ence  came  up  for  its  drink. 

"Won't  you  please  let  me  treat?"  said  the  boy, 
unsteadily.  "  I  ain't  likely  to  meet  you  again,  sir." 
Reaction  was  giving  him  trouble  inside. 

"  Where  are  you  bound,  kid  ?" 

"  Oh,  just  a  ways  up  the  country,"  answered  the 
boy,  keeping  a  grip  on  his  voice. 

"  Well,  you  may  get  there.  Where  did  you  pick  up 
that — that  thing?  Your  pistol,  I  mean." 

"  It's  a  present  from  a  friend,"  replied  the  tender 
foot,  with  dignity. 

"  Farewell  gift,  wasn't  it,  kid  ?     Yes  ;  I  thought  so. 


SPECIMEN   JONES  45 

Now  I'd  hate  to  get  an  affair  like  that  from  a  friend. 
It  would  start  me  wondering  if  he  liked  me  as  well  as 
I'd  always  thought  he  did.  Put  up  that  money,  kid. 
You're  drinking  with  me.  Say,  what's  yer  name  ?" 

"  Cumnor — J.  Cumnor." 

"  Well,  J.  Cumnor,  I'm  glad  to  know  y'u.  Ephraim, 
let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr.  Cumnor.  Mr. 
Adams,  if  you're  rested  from  your  quadrille,  you  can 
shake  hands  with  my  friend.  Step  around,  you  Mi 
guels  and  Serapios  and  Cristobals,  whatever  y'u  claim 
your  names  are.  This  is  Mr.  J.  Cumnor." 

The  Mexicans  did  not  understand  either  the  letter 
or  the  spirit  of  these  American  words,  but  they  drank 
their  drink,  and  the  concertina  resumed  its  acrid  mel 
ody.  The  boy  had  taken  himself  off  without  being 
noticed. 

"  Say,  Spec,"  said  Ephraim  to  Jones,  "  I'm  no  hog. 
Here's  yer  chain.  You'll  be  along  again." 

"  Keep  it  till  I'm  along  again,"  said  the  owner. 

"Just  as  you  say,  Spec,"  answered  Ephraim,  smooth 
ly,  and  he  hung  the  pledge  over  an  advertisement 
chromo  of  a  nude  cream  -  colored  lady  with  bright 
straw  hair  holding  out  a  bottle  of  somebody's  cham 
pagne.  Specimen  Jones  sang  no  more  songs,  but 
smoked,  and  leaned  in  silence  on  the  bar.  The  com 
pany  were  talking  of  bed,  and  Ephraim  plunged  his 
glasses  into  a  bucket  to  clean  them  for  the  morrow. 

"  Know  anything  about  that  kid  ?"  inquired  Jones, 
abruptly. 

Ephraim  shook  his  head  as  he  washed. 

"  Travelling  alone,  ain't  he  ?" 

Ephraim  nodded. 

"Where  did  y'u  say  y'u  found  that  fellow  layin' 
the  Injuns  got  ?" 


46  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

"  Mile  this  side  the  canon.  'Mong  them  sand- 
humps." 

"  How  long  had  he  been  there,  do  y'u  figure  ?" 

"Three  days,  anyway." 

Jones  watched  Ephraim  finish  his  cleansing.  "  Your 
clock  needs  wiping,"  he  remarked.  "A  man  might 
suppose  it  was  nine,  to  see  that  thing  the  way  the 
dirt  hides  the  hands.  Look  again  in  half  an  hour 
and  it  '11  say  three.  That's  the  kind  of  clock  gives  a 
man  the  jams.  Sends  him  crazy." 

"  Well,  that  ain't  a  bad  thing  to  be  in  this  country," 
said  Ephraim,  rubbing  the  glass  case  and  restoring 
identity  to  the  hands.  "  If  that  man  had  been  crazy 
he'd  been  livin'  right  now.  Injuns  '11  never  touch  lu 
natics." 

"That  band  have  passed  here  and  gone  north," 
Jones  said.  "  I  saw  a  smoke  among  the  foot-hills  as 
I  come  along  day  before  yesterday.  I  guess  they're 
aiming  to  cross  the  Santa  Catalina.  Most  likely 
they're  that  band  from  round  the  San  Carlos  that 
were  reported  as  raiding  down  in  Sonora." 

"I  seen  well  enough,"  said  Ephraim,  "when  I 
found  him  that  they  wasn't  going  to  trouble  us  any, 
or  they'd  have  been  around  by  then." 

He  was  quite  right,  but  Specimen  Jones  was  think 
ing  of  something  else.  He  went  out  to  the  corral, 
feeling  disturbed  and  doubtful.  He  saw  the  tall 
white  freight  -  wagon  of  the  Mexicans,  looming  and 
silent,  and  a  little  way  off  the  new  fence  where  the 
man  lay.  An  odd  sound  startled  him,  though  he 
knew  it  was  no  Indians  at  this  hour,  and  he  looked 
down  into  a  little  dry  ditch.  It  was  the  boy,  hidden 
away  flat  on  his  stomach  among  the  stones,  sobbing. 

"  Oh,   snakes !"   whispered   Specimen   Jones,  and 


SPECIMEN   JONES  47 

stepped  back.  The  Latin  races  embrace  and  weep, 
and  all  goes  well ;  but  among  Saxons  tears  are  a  hor 
rid  event.  Jones  never  knew  what  to  do  when  it  was 
a  woman,  but  this  was  truly  disgusting.  He  was  well 
seasoned  by  the  frontier,  had  tried  a  little  of  every 
thing  :  town  and  country,  ranches,  saloons,  stage- 
driving,  marriage  occasionally,  and  latterly  mines. 
He  had  sundry  claims  staked  out,  and  always  car 
ried  pieces  of  stone  in  his  pockets,  discoursing  upon 
their  mineral-bearing  capacity,  which  was  apt  to  be 
very  slight.  That  is  why  he  was  called  Specimen 
Jones.  He  had  exhausted  all  the  important  sensa 
tions,  and  did  not  care  much  for  anything  any  more. 
Perfect  health  and  strength  kept  him  from  discover 
ing  that  he  was  a  saddened,  drifting  man.  He  wished 
to  kick  the  boy  for  his  baby  performance,  and  yet  he 
stepped  carefully  away  from  the  ditch  so  the  boy 
should  not  suspect  his  presence.  He  found  himself 
standing  still,  looking  at  the  dim,  broken  desert. 

"Why,  hell,"  complained  Specimen  Jones,  "he 
played  the  little  man  to  start  with.  He  did  so.  He 
scared  that  old  horse-thief,  Adams,  just  about  dead. 
Then  he  went  to  kill  me,  that  kep'  him  from  bein' 
buried  early  to-morrow.  I've  been  wild  that  way 
myself,  and  wantin'  to  shoot  up  the  whole  outfit." 
Jones  looked  at  the  place  where  his  middle  finger 
used  to  be,  before  a  certain  evening  in  Tombstone. 
"  But  I  never — "  He  glanced  towards  the  ditch,  per 
plexed.  "What's  that  mean?  Why  in  the  world 
does  he  git  to  cryin'  for  now,  do  you  suppose  ?" 
Jones  took  to  singing  without  knowing  it.  "'Ye 
shepherds,  tell  me,  have  you  seen  my  Flora  pass  this 
way  ?'  "  he  murmured.  Then  a  thought  struck  him. 
"  Hello,  kid  !"  he  called  out.  There  was  no  answer. 


48  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

"  Of  course,"  said  Jones.  "  Now  he's  ashamed  to 
hev  me  see  him  come  out  of  there."  He  walked  with 
elaborate  slowness  round  the  corral  and  behind  a 
shed.  "  Hello,  you  kid  !"  he  called  again. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  going  to  sleep,"  said  the  boy, 
appearing  quite  suddenly.  "  I — I'm  not  used  to  rid 
ing  all  day.  Til  get  used  to  it,  you  know,"  he  hast 
ened  to  add. 

" '  Ha-ve  you  seen  my  Flo' —  Say,  kid,  where  y'u 
bound,  anyway?" 

"  San  Carlos." 

"  San  Carlos  ?     Oh.    Ah.    '  Flo-ra  pass  this  way  ?'  " 

"  Is  it  far,  sir  ?" 

"Awful  far,  sometimes.  It's  always  liable  to  be 
far  through  the  Arivaypa  Canon." 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  make  it  between  meals,"  re 
marked  Cumnor. 

"  No.     Sure.     What  made  you  come  this  route  ?" 

"A  man  told  me." 

"  A  man  ?  Oh.  Well,  it  is  kind  o'  difficult,  I  ad 
mit,  for  an  Arizonan  not  to  lie  to  a  stranger.  But  I 
think  Td  have  told  you  to  go  by  Tres  Alamos  and 
Point  of  Mountain.  It's  the  road  the  man  that  told 
you  would  choose  himself  every  time.  Do  you  like 
Injuns,  kid  ?" 

Cumnor  snapped  eagerly. 

"  Of  course  y'u  do.  And  you've  never  saw  one  in 
the  whole  minute-and-a-half  you've  been  alive.  I 
know  all  about  it." 

"  I'm  not  afraid,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Not  afraid  ?  Of  course  y'u  ain't.  What's  your 
idea  in  going  to  Carlos  ?  Got  town  lots  there  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  literal  youth,  to  the  huge  internal 
diversion  of  Jones.  "  There's  a  man  there  I  used 


SPECIMEN  JONES  49 

to  know  back  home.  He's  in  the  cavalry.  What 
sort  of  a  town  is  it  for  sport  ?"  asked  Cumnor,  in  a 
gay  Lothario  tone. 

"  Town  ?"  Specimen  Jones  caught  hold  of  the  top 
rail  of  the  corral.  "  Sport  1  Now  I'll  tell  y'u  what 
sort  of  a  town  it  is.  There  ain't  no  streets.  There 
ain't  no  houses.  There  ain't  any  land  and  water  in 
the  usual  meaning  of  them  words.  There's  Mount 
Turnbull.  It's  pretty  near  a  usual  mountain,  but  y'u 
don't  want  to  go  there.  The  Creator  didn't  make 
San  Carlos.  It's  a  heap  older  than  Him.  When  He 
got  around  to  it  after  slickin'  up  Paradise  and  them 
fruit-trees,  He  just  left  it  to  be  as  He  found  it,  as  a 
sample  of  the  way  they  done  business  before  He  come 
along.  He  'ain't  done  any  work  around  that  spot  at 
all,  He  'ain't.  Mix  up  a  barrel  of  sand  and  ashes  and 
thorns,  and  jam  scorpions  and  rattlesnakes  along  in, 
and  dump  the  outfit  on  stones,  and  heat  yer  stones, 
red-hot,  and  set  the  United  States  army  loose  over 
the  place  chasin'  Apaches,  and  you've  got  San 
Carlos." 

Cumnor  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  I  don't  care," 
he  said.  "  I  want  to  chase  Apaches." 

"Did  you  see  that  man  Ephraim  found  by  the 
canon  ?"  Jones  inquired. 

"  Didn't  get  here  in  time." 

"  Well,  there  was  a  hole  in  his  chest  made  by  an 
arrow.  But  there's  no  harm  in  that  if  you  die  at 
wunst.  That  chap  didn't,  y'u  see.  You  heard  Ephra 
im  tell  about  it.  They'd  done  a  number  of  things 
to  the  man  before  he  could  die.  Roastin'  was  only 
one  of  'em.  Now  your  road  takes  you  through  the 
mountains  where  these  Injuns  hev  gone.  Kid,  come 
along  to  Tucson  with  me,"  urged  Jones,  suddenly. 

4 


50  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

Again  Cumnor  was  silent.  "  Is  my  road  different 
from  other  people's  ?"  he  said,  finally. 

"  Not  to  Grant,  it  ain't.  These  Mexicans  are 
hauling  freight  to  Grant.  But  what's  the  matter  with 
your  coming  to  Tucson  with  me  ?" 

"  I  started  to  go  to  San  Carlos,  and  I'm  going," 
said  Cumnor. 

"You're  a  poor  chuckle -headed  fool!"  burst  out 
Jones,  in  a  rage.  "And  y'u  can  go,  for  all  I  care — 
you  and  your  Christmas-tree  pistol.  Like  as  not  you 
won't  find  your  cavalry  friend  at  San  Carlos.  They've 
killed  a  lot  of  them  soldiers  huntin'  Injuns  this  season. 
Good-night." 

Specimen  Jones  was  gone.  Cumnor  walked  to  his 
blanket-roll,  where  his  saddle  was  slung  under  the 
shed.  The  various  doings  of  the  evening  had  bruised 
his  nerves.  He  spread  his  blankets  among  the  dry 
Acattle-dung,  and  sat  down,  taking  off  a  few  clothes 
slowly.  He  lumped  his  coat  and  overalls  under  his 
head  for  a  pillow,  and,  putting  the  despised  pistol 
alongside,  lay  between  the  blankets.  No  object 
showed  in  the  night  but  the  tall  freight-wagon.  The 
tenderfoot  thought  he  had  made  altogether  a  fool  of 
himself  upon  the  first  trial  trip  of  his  manhood,  alone 
on  the  open  sea  of  Arizona.  No  man,  not  even  Jones 
now,  was  his  friend.  A  stranger,  who  could  have  had 
nothing  against  him  but  his  inexperience,  had  taken 
the  trouble  to  direct  him  on  the  wrong  road.  He 
did  not  mind  definite  enemies.  He  had  punched 
the  heads  of  those  in  Pennsylvania,  and  would 
not  object  to  shooting  them  here  ;  but  this  imper 
sonal,  surrounding  hostility  of  the  unknown  was  new 
and  bitter :  the  cruel,  assassinating,  cowardly  South 
west,  where  prospered  those  jail-birds  whom  the  vig- 


SPECIMEN    JONES  51 

ilantes  had  driven  from  California.  He  thought  of 
the  nameless  human  carcass  that  lay  near,  buried 
that  day,  and  of  the  jokes  about  its  mutilations. 
Cumnor  was  not  an  innocent  boy,  either  in  principles 
or  in  practice,  but  this  laughter  about  a  dead  body 
had  burned  into  his  young,  unhardened  soul.  He 
lay  watching  with  hot,  dogged  eyes  the  brilliant  stars. 
A  passing  wind  turned  the  windmill,  which  creaked  a 
forlorn  minute,  and  ceased.  He  must  have  gone  to 
sleep  and  slept  soundly,  for  the  next  he  knew  it  was 
the  cold  air  of  dawn  that  made  him  open  his  eyes.  A 
numb  silence  lay  over  all  things,  and  the  tenderfoot 
had  that  moment  of  curiosity  as  to  where  he  was 
now  which  comes  to  those  who  have  journeyed  for 
many  days.  The  Mexicans  had  already  departed 
with  their  freight-wagon.  It  was  not  entirely  light, 
and  the  embers  where  these  early  starters  had  cooked 
their  breakfast  lay  glowing  in  the  sand  across  the 
road.  The  boy  remembered  seeing  a  wagon  where 
now  he  saw  only  chill,  distant  peaks,  and  while  he  lay 
quiet  and  warm,  shunning  full  consciousness,  there 
was  a  stir  in  the  cabin,  and  at  Ephraim's  voice  reality 
broke  upon  his  drowsiness,  and  he  recollected  Arizona 
and  the  keen  stress  of  shifting  for  himself.  He  noted 
the  gray  paling  round  the  grave.  Indians  ?  He 
would  catch  up  with  the  Mexicans,  and  travel  in 
their  company  to  Grant.  Freighters  made  but  fifteen 
miles  in  the  day,  and  he  could  start  after  breakfast 
and  be  with  them  before  they  stopped  to  noon.  Six 
men  need  not  worry  about  Apaches,  Cumnor  thought. 
The  voice  of  Specimen  Jones  came  from  the  cabin, 
and  sounds  of  lighting  the  stove,  and  the  growling 
conversation  of  men  getting  up.  Cumnor,  lying  in 
his  blankets,  tried  to  overhear  what  Jones  was  saying, 


52  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

for  no  better  reason  than  that  this  was  the  only  man 
he  had  met  lately  who  had  seemed  to  care  whether 
he  were  alive  or  dead.  There  was  the  clink  of  Ephra- 
im's  whiskey- bottles,  and  the  cheerful  tones  of  old 
Mr.  Adams,  saying,  "  It's  better ''n  brushin'  yer  teeth"; 
and  then  further  clinking,  and  an  inquiry  from  Speci 
men  Jones. 

"  Whose  spurs  ?"  said  he. 

"  Mine."    This  from  Mr.  Adams. 

"  How  long  have  they  been  yourn  ?" 

"  Since  I  got  'em,  I  guess." 

"Well,  you've  enjoyed  them  spurs  long  enough." 
The  voice  of  Specimen  Jones  now  altered  in  quality. 
"  And  you'll  give  'em  back  to  that  kid." 

Muttering  followed  that  the  boy  could  not  catch. 
"  You'll  give  'em  back,"  repeated  Jones.  "  I  seen  y'u 
lift  'em  from  under  that  chair  when  I  was  in  the 
corner." 

"That's  straight,  Mr.  Adams,"  said  Ephraim.  "I 
noticed  it  myself,  though  I  had  no  objections,  of 
course.  But  Mr.  Jones  has  pointed  out — " 

"Since  when  have  you  growed  so  honest,  Jones?" 
cackled  Mr.  Adams,  seeing  that  he  must  lose  his 
little  booty.  "  And  why  didn't  you  raise  yer  objec 
tions  when  you  seen  me  do  it  ?" 

"  I  didn't  know  the  kid,"  Jones  explained.  "  And 
if  it  don't  strike  you  that  game  blood  deserves  re> 
spect,  why  it  does  strike  me." 

Hearing  this,  the  tenderfoot,  outside  in  his  shed, 
thought  better  of  mankind  and  life  in  general,  arose 
from  his  nest,  and  began  preening  himself.  He  had 
all  the  correct  trappings  for  the  frontier,  and  his 
toilet  in  the  shed  gave  him  pleasure.  The  sun  came 
up,  and  with  a  stroke  struck  the  world  to  crystal. 


SPECIMEN   JONES  53 

The  near  sand-hills  went  into  rose,  the  crabbed  yucca 
and  the  mesquite  turned  transparent,  with  lances  and 
pale  films  of  green,  like  drapery  graciously  veiling  the 
desert's  face,  and  distant  violet  peaks  and  edges 
framed  the  vast  enchantment  beneath  the  liquid  ex 
halations  of  the  sky.  The  smell  of  bacon  and  coffee 
from  open  windows  filled  the  heart  with  bravery  and 
yearning,  and  Ephraim,  putting  his  head  round  the 
corner,  called  to  Cumnor  that  he  had  better  come  in 
and  eat.  Jones,  already  at  table,  gave  him  the  briefest 
nod  ;  but  the  spurs  were  there,  replaced  as  Cumnor 
had  left  them  under  a  chair  in  the  corner.  In  Ari 
zona  they  do  not  say  much  at  any  meal,  and  at  break 
fast  nothing  at  all;  and  as  Cumnor  swallowed  and 
meditated,  he  noticed  the  cream-colored  lady  and  the 
chain,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  he  should  assert 
his  identity  with  regard  to  that  business,  though  how 
and  when  was  not  clear  to  him.  He  was  in  no  great 
haste  to  take  up  his  journey.  The  society  of  the 
Mexicans  whom  he  must  sooner  or  later  overtake  did 
not  tempt  him.  When  breakfast  was  done  he  idled 
in  the  cabin,  like  the  other  guests,  while  Ephraim 
and  his  assistant  busied  about  the  premises.  But 
the  morning  grew  on,  and  the  guests,  after  a  season 
of  smoking  and  tilted  silence  against  the  wall,  shook 
themselves  and  their  effects  together,  saddled,  and 
were  lost  among  the  waste  thorny  hills.  Twenty  Mile 
became  hot  and  torpid.  Jones  lay  on  three  consecu 
tive  chairs,  occasionally  singing,  and  old  Mr.  Adams 
had  not  gone  away  either,  but  watched  him,  with 
more  tobacco  running  down  his  beard. 
"  Well,"  said  Cumnor,  "  I'll  be  going." 
"  Nobody's  stopping  y'u,"  remarked  Jones. 
"  You're  going  to  Tucson  ?"  the  boy  said,  with  the 


54  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

chain  problem  still  unsolved  in  his  mind.  "  Good-bye, 
Mr.  Jones.  I  hope  I'll— we'll— " 

"That  '11  do,"  said  Jones;  and  the  tenderfoot, 
thrown  back  by  this  severity,  went  to  get  his  saddle- 
horse  and  his  burro. 

Presently  Jones  remarked  to  Mr.  Adams  that  he 
wondered  what  Ephraim  was  doing,  and  went  out. 
The  old  gentleman  was  left  alone  in  the  room,  and 
he  swiftly  noticed  that  the  belt  and  pistol  of  Specimen 
Jones  were  left  alone  with  him.  The  accoutrement 
lay  by  the  chair  its  owner  had  been  lounging  in.  It 
is  an  easy  thing  to  remove  cartridges  from  the  cham 
bers  of  a  revolver,  and  replace  the  weapon  in  its 
holster  so  that  everything  looks  quite  natural.  The 
old  gentleman  was  entertained  with  the  notion  that 
somewhere  in  Tucson  Specimen  Jones  might  have  a 
surprise,  and  he  did  not  take  a  minute  to  prepare 
this,  drop  the  belt  as  it  lay  before,  and  saunter  inno 
cently  out  of  the  saloon.  Ephraim  and  Jones  were 
criticising  the  tenderfoot's  property  as  he  packed  his 
burro. 

"  Do  y'u  make  it  a  rule  to  travel  with  ice-cream  ?" 
Jones  was  inquiring. 

"  They're  for  water,"  Cumnor  said.  "  They  told  me 
at  Tucson  I'd  need  to  carry  water  for  three  days  on 
some  trails." 

It  was  two  good-sized  milk-cans  that  he  had,  and 
they  bounced  about  on  the  little  burro's  pack,  giving 
him  as  much  amazement  as  a  jackass  can  feel.  Jones 
and  Ephraim  were  hilarious. 

"  Don't  go  without  your  spurs,  Mr.  Cumnor,"  said 
the  voice  of  old  Mr.  Adams,  as  he  approached  the 
group.  His  tone  was  particularly  civil. 

The  tenderfoot  had,  indeed,  forgotten  his  spurs,  and 


SPECIMEN  JONES  55 

he  ran  back  to  get  them.  The  cream-colored  lady  still 
had  the  chain  hanging  upon  her,  and  Cumnor's  prob 
lem  was  suddenly  solved.  He  put  the  chain  in  his 
pocket,  and  laid  the  price  of  one  round  of  drinks  for 
last  night's  company  on  the  shelf  below  the  chromo. 
He  returned  with  his  spurs  on,  and  went  to  his  saddle 
that  lay  beside  that  of  Specimen  Jones  under  the  shed. 
After  a  moment  he  came  with  his  saddle  to  where  the 
men  stood  talking  by  his  pony,  slung  it  on,  and  tight 
ened  the  cinches  :  but  the  chain  was  now  in  the  saddle 
bag  of  Specimen  Jones,  mixed  up  with  some  tobacco, 
stale  bread,  a  box  of  matches,  and  a  hunk  of  fat  bacon. 
The  men  at  Twenty  Mile  said  good-day  to  the  tender 
foot,  with  monosyllables  and  indifference,  and  watched 
him  depart  into  the  heated  desert.  Wishing  for  a  last 
look  at  Jones,  he  turned  once,  and  saw  the  three  stand 
ing,  and  the  chocolate  brick  of  the  cabin,  and  the 
windmill  white  and  idle  in  the  sun. 

"  He'll  be  gutted  by  night,"  remarked  Mr.  Adams. 

"  I  ain't  buryin'  him,  then,"  said  Ephraim. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Specimen  Jones.  "Well,  it's  time  I 
was  getting  to  Tucson." 

Pie  went  to  the  saloon,  strapped  on  his  pistol,  sad 
dled,  and  rode  away.  Ephraim  and  Mr.  Adams  re 
turned  to  the  cabin  ;  and  here  is  the  final  conclusion 
they  came  to  after  three  hours  of  discussion  as  to  who 
took  the  chain  and  who  had  it  just  then : 

Ephraim.  Jones,  he  hadn't  no  cash. 

Mr.  Adams.  The  kid,  he  hadn't  no  sense. 

Ephraim.  The  kid,  he  lent  the  cash  to  Jones. 

Mr.  Adams.  Jones,  he  goes  off  with  his  chain. 

Both.  What  damn  fools  everybody  is,  anyway ! 

And  they  went  to  dinner.  But  Mr.  Adams  did  not 
mention  his  relations  with  Jones's  pistol.  Let  it  be 


56  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

said,  in  extenuation  of  that  performance,  that  Mr. 
Adams  supposed  Jones  was  going  to  Tucson,  where 
he  said  he  was  going,  and  where  a  job  and  a  salary 
were  awaiting  him.  In  Tucson  an  unloaded  pistol  in 
the  holster  of  so  handy  a  man  on  the  drop  as  was 
Specimen  would  keep  people  civil,  because  they  would 
not  know,  any  more  than  the  owner,  that  it  was  un 
loaded  ;  and  the  mere  possession  of  it  would  be  suffi 
cient  in  nine  chances  out  of  ten — though  it  was  undoubt 
edly  for  the  tenth  that  Mr.  Adams  had  a  sneaking 
hope.  But  Specimen  Jones  was  not  going  to  Tucson. 
A  contention  in  his  mind  as  to  whether  he  would  do 
what  was  good  for  himself,  or  what  was  good  for  an 
other,  had  kept  him  sullen  ever  since  he  got  up.  Now 
it  was  settled,  and  Jones  in  serene  humor  again.  Of 
course  he  had  started  on  the  Tucson  road,  for  the  ben 
efit  of  Ephraim  and  Mr.  Adams. 

The  tenderfoot  rode  along.  The  Arizona  sun  beat 
down  upon  the  deadly  silence,  and  the  world  was  no 
longer  of  crystal,  but  a  mesa,  dull  and  gray  and  hot. 
The  pony's  hoofs  grated  in  the  gravel,  and  after  a  time 
the  road  dived  down  and  up  among  lumpy  hills  of 
stone  and  cactus,  always  nearer  the  fierce  glaring  Sier 
ra  Santa  Catalina.  It  dipped  so  abruptly  in  and  out 
of  the  shallow  sudden  ravines  that,  on  coming  up  from 
one  of  these  into  sight  of  the  country  again,  the  ten 
derfoot's  heart  jumped  at  the  close  apparition  of  an 
other  rider  quickly  bearing  in  upon  him  from  gullies 
where  he  had  been  moving  unseen.  But  it  was  only 
Specimen  Jones. 

"  Hello  !"  said  he,  joining  Cumnor.     "  Hot,  ain't  it  ?" 

"Where  are  you  going?"  inquired  Cumnor. 

"Up  here  a  ways."  And  Jones  jerked  his  finger 
generally  towards  the  Sierra,  where  they  were  heading. 


SPECIMEN  JONES  57 

"Thought  you  had  a  job  in  Tucson." 

"That's  what  I  have." 

Specimen  Jones  had  no  more  to  say,  and  they  rode 
for  a  while,  their  ponies'  hoofs  always  grating  in  the 
gravel,  and  the  milk-cans  lightly  clanking  on  the  bur 
ro's  pack.  The  bunched  blades  of  the  yuccas  bristled 
steel-stiff,  and  as  far  as  you  could  see  it  was  a  gray 
waste  of  mounds  and  ridges  sharp  and  blunt,  up  to 
the  forbidding  boundary  walls  of  the  Tortilita  one  way 
and  the  Santa  Catalina  the  other.  Cumnor  wondered 
if  Jones  had  found  the  chain.  Jones  was  capable  of 
not  finding  it  for  several  weeks,  or  of  finding  it  at  once 
and  saying  nothing. 

"  You'll  excuse  my  meddling  with  your  business  ?" 
the  boy  hazarded. 

Jones  looked  inquiring. 

"  Something's  wrong  with  your  saddle-pocket." 

Specimen  saw  nothing  apparently  wrong  with  it,  but 
perceiving  Cumnor  was  grinning,  unbuckled  the  pouch. 
He  looked  at  the  boy  rapidly,  and  looked  away  again, 
and  as  he  rode,  still  in  silence,  he  put  the  chain  back 
round  his  neck  below  the  flannel  shirt-collar. 

"Say,  kid,"  he  remarked,  after  some  time,  "what 
does  J  stand  for  ?" 

"J?     Oh,  my  name!     Jock." 

"  Well,  Jock,  will  y'u  explain  to  me  as  a  friend  how 
y'u  ever  come  to  be  such  a  fool  as  to  leave  yer  home 
— wherever  and  whatever  it  was — in  exchange  for  this 
here  God-forsaken  and  iniquitous  hole  ?" 

"If  you'll  explain  to  me,"  said  the  boy,  greatly 
heartened,  "  how  you  come  to  be  ridin'  in  the  company 
of  a  fool,  instead  of  goin'  to  your  job  at  Tucson." 

The  explanation  was  furnished  before  Specimen 
Jones  had  framed  his  reply.  A  burning  freight-wagon 


58  RED   MEN    AND    WHITE 

and  five  dismembered  human  stumps  lay  in  the  road. 
This  was  what  had  happened  to  the  Miguels  and  Se- 
rapios  and  the  concertina.  Jones  and  Cumnor,  in  their 
dodging  and  struggles  to  exclude  all  expressions  of 
growing  mutual  esteem  from  their  speech,  had  forgot 
ten  their  journey,  and  a  sudden  bend  among  the  rocks 
where  the  road  had  now  brought  them  revealed  the 
blood  and  fire  staring  them  in  the  face.  The  plundered 
wagon  was  three  parts  empty ;  its  splintered,  blazing 
boards  slid  down  as  they  burned  into  the  fiery  heap 
on  the  ground ;  packages  of  soda  and  groceries  and 
medicines  slid  with  them,  bursting  into  chemical  spots 
of  green  and  crimson  flame;  a  wheel  crushed  in  and 
sank,  spilling  more  packages  that  flickered  and  hissed  ; 
the  garbage  of  combat  and  murder  littered  the  earth, 
and  in  the  air  hung  an  odor  that  Cumnor  knew,  though 
he  had  never  smelled  it  before.  Morsels  of  dropped 
booty  up  among  the  rocks  showed  where  the  Indians 
had  gone,  and  one  horse  remained,  groaning,  with  an 
accidental  arrow  in  his  belly. 

"We'll  just  kill  him,"  said  Jones;  and  his  pistol 
snapped  idly,  and  snapped  again,  as  his  eye  caught  a 
motion — a  something— two  hundred  yards  up  among 
the  bowlders  on  the  hill.  He  whirled  round.  The 
enemy  was  behind  them  also.  There  was  no  retreat. 
"  Yourn's  no  good  !"  yelled  Jones,  fiercely,  for  Cumnor 
was  getting  out  his  little,  foolish  revolver.  "Oh,  what 
a  trick  to  play  on  a  man !  Drop  off  yer  horse,  kid  ; 
drop,  and  do  like  me.  Shootin's  no  good  here,  even 
if  I  was  loaded.  They  shot,  and  look  at  them  now. 
God  bless  them  ice-cream  freezers  of  yourn,  kid  !  Did 
y'u  ever  see  a  crazy  man  ?  If  you  'ain't,  make  it  up  as 
along  /" 

More  objects  moved  up  among  the  bowlders.    Spec- 


SPECIMEN    JONES  59 

imen  Jones  ripped  off  the  burro's  pack,  and  the  milk- 
cans  rolled  on  the  ground.  The  burro  began  grazing 
quietly,  with  now  and  then  a  step  towards  new  patch 
es  of  grass.  The  horses  stood  where  their  riders  had 
left  them,  their  reins  over  their  heads,  hanging  and 
dragging.  From  two  hundred  yards  on  the  hill  the 
ambushed  Apaches  showed,  their  dark,  scattered  fig 
ures  appearing  cautiously  one  by  one,  watching  with 
suspicion.  Specimen  Jones  seized  up  one  milk-can, 
and  Cumnor  obediently  did  the  same. 

"You  kin  dance,  kid,  and  I  kin  sing,  and  we'll  go  to 
it,"  said  Jones.  He  rambled  in  a  wavering  loop,  and 
diving  eccentrically  at  Cumnor,  clashed  the  milk-cans 
together.  "  '  Es  schallt  ein  Ruf  wie  Donnerhall,'  "  he 
bawled,  beginning  the  song  of  "  Die  Wacht  am  Rhein." 
"  Why  don't  you  dance  ?"  he  shouted,  sternly.  The 
boy  saw  the  terrible  earnestness  of  his  face,  and,  clash 
ing  his  milk-cans  in  turn,  he  shuffled  a  sort  of  jig. 
The  two  went  over  the  sand  in  loops,  toe  and  heel ; 
the  donkey  continued  his  quiet  grazing,  and  the  flames 
rose  hot  and  yellow  from  the  freight-wagon.  And  all 
the  while  the  stately  German  hymn  pealed  among  the 
rocks,  and  the  Apaches  crept  down  nearer  the  bowing, 
scraping  men.  The  sun  shone  bright,  and  their  bodies 
poured  with  sweat.  Jones  flung  off  his  shirt ;  his 
damp,  matted  hair  was  half  in  ridges  and  half  glued  to 
his  forehead,  and  the  delicate  gold  chain  swung  and 
struck  his  broad,  naked  breast.  The  Apaches  drew 
nearer  again,  their  bows  and  arrows  held  uncertainly. 
They  came  down  the  hill,  fifteen  or  twenty,  taking  a 
long  time,  and  stopping  every  few  yards.  The  milk- 
cans  clashed,  and  Jones  thought  he  felt  the  boy's 
strokes  weakening.  "  Die  Wacht  am  Rhein  "  was  fin 
ished,  and  now  it  was  "4Ha-ve  you  seen  my  Flora  pass 


60  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

this  way?'  "  "  Y'u  mustn't  play  out,  kid,"  said  Jones, 
very  gently.  "  Indeed  y'u  mustn't ;"  and  he  at  once 
resumed  his  song.  The  silent  Apaches  had  now 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  hill.  They  stood  some 
twenty  yards  away,  and  Cumnor  had  a  good  chance  to 
see  his  first  Indians.  He  saw  them  move,  and  the 
color  and  slim  shape  of  their  bodies,  their  thin  arms, 
and  their  long,  black  hair.  It  went  through  his  mind 
that  if  he  had  no  more  clothes  on  than  that,  dancing 
would  come  easier.  His  boots  were  growing  heavy  to 
lift,  and  his  overalls  seemed  to  wrap  his  sinews  in  wet, 
strangling  thongs.  He  wondered  how  long  he  had 
been  keeping  this  up.  The  legs  of  the  Apaches  were 
free,  with  light  moccasins  only  half-way  to  the  thigh, 
slenderly  held  up  by  strings  from  the  waist.  Cumnor 
envied  their  unencumbered  steps  as  he  saw  them 
again  walk  nearer  to  where  he  was  dancing.  It  was 
long  since  he  had  eaten,  and  he  noticed  a  singing 
dulness  in  his  brain,  and  became  frightened  at  his 
thoughts,  which  were  running  and  melting  into  one 
fixed  idea.  This  idea  was  to  take  off  his  boots,  and 
offer  to  trade  them  for  a  pair  of  moccasins.  It  terri 
fied  him— this  endless,  molten  rush  of  thoughts ;  he 
could  see  them  coming  in  different  shapes  from  differ 
ent  places  in  his  head,  but  they  all  joined  immediately, 
and  always  formed  the  same  fixed  idea.  He  ground 
his  teeth  to  master  this  encroaching  inebriation  of  his 
will  and  judgment.  He  clashed  his  can  more  loudly 
to  wake  him  to  reality,  which  he  still  could  recognize 
and  appreciate.  For  a  time  he  found  it  a  good  plan 
to  listen  to  what  Specimen  Jones  was  singing,  and  tell 
himself  the  name  of  the  song,  if  he  knew  it.  At  pres 
ent  it  was  "Yankee  Doodle,"  to  which  Jones  was  fit 
ting  words  of  his  own.  These  ran,  "  Now  I'm  going 


SPECIMEN  JONES  6l 

to  try  a  bluff,  And  mind  you  do  what  I  do  " ;  and  then 
again,  over  and  over.  Cumnor  waited  for  the  word 
"bluff";  for  it  was  hard  and  heavy,  and  fell  into  his 
thoughts,  and  stopped  them  for  a  moment.  The 
dance  was  so  long  now  he  had  forgotten  about  that. 
A  numbness  had  been  spreading  through  his  legs,  and 
he  was  glad  to  feel  a  sharp  pain  in  the  sole  of  his  foot. 
It  was  a  piece  of  gravel  that  had  somehow  worked 
its  way  in,  and  was  rubbing  through  the  skin  into  the 
flesh.  "  That's  good,"  he  said,  aloud.  The  pebble 
was  eating  the  numbness  away,  and  Cumnor  drove  it 
hard  against  the  raw  spot,  and  relished  the  tonic  of 
its  burning  friction.  The  Apaches  had  drawn  into  a 
circle.  Standing  at  some  interval  apart,  they  entirely 
surrounded  the  arena.  Shrewd,  half  convinced,  and 
yet  with  awe,  they  watched  the  dancers,  who  clashed 
their  cans  slowly  now  in  rhythm  to  Jones's  hoarse, 
parched  singing.  He  was  quite  master  of  himself,  and 
led  the  jig  round  the  still  blazing  wreck  of  the  wagon, 
and  circled  in  figures  of  eight  between  the  corpses  of 
the  Mexicans,  clashing  the  milk-cans  above  each  one. 
Then,  knowing  his  strength  was  coming  to  an  end,  he 
approached  an  Indian  whose  splendid  fillet  a'nfl  trap 
pings  denoted  him  of  consequence  ;  and  Jones  was 
near  shouting  with  relief  when  the  Indian  shrank 
backward.  Suddenly  he  saw  Cumnor  let  his  can 
drop,  and  without  stopping  to  see  why,  he  caught  it 
up,  and,  slowly  rattling  both,  approached  each  Indian 
in  turn  with  tortuous  steps.  The  circle  that  had  nev 
er  uttered  a  sound  till  now  receded,  chanting  almost 
in  a  whisper  some  exorcising  song  which  the  man  with 
the  fillet  had  begun.  They  gathered  round  him,  re 
treating  always,  and  the  strain,  with  its  rapid  muttered 
words,  rose  and  fell  softly  among  them.  Jones  had 


62  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

supposed  the  boy  was  overcome  by  faintness,  and 
looked  to  see  where  he  lay.  But  it  was  not  faintness. 
Cumnor,  with  his  boots  off,  came  by  and  walked  after 
the  Indians  in  a  trance.  They  saw  him,  and  quick 
ened  their  pace,  often  turning  to  be  sure  he  was  not 
overtaking  them.  He  called  to  them  unintelligibly, 
stumbling  up  the  sharp  hill,  and  pointing  to  the  boots. 
Finally  he  sat  down.  They  continued  ascending  the 
mountain,  herding  close  round  the  man  with  the  feath 
ers,  until  the  rocks  and  the  filmy  tangles  screened  them 
from  sight ;  and  like  a  wind  that  hums  uncertainly  in 
grass,  their  chanting  died  away. 

The  sun  was  half  behind  the  western  range  when 
Jones  next  moved.  He  called,  and,  getting  no  answer, 
he  crawled  painfully  to  where  the  boy  lay  on  the  hill. 
Cumnor  was  sleeping  heavily;  his  head  was  hot,  and 
he  moaned.  So  Jones  crawled  down,  and  fetched 
blankets  and  the  canteen  of  water.  He  spread  the 
blankets  over  the  boy,  wet  a  handkerchief  and  laid  it 
on  his  forehead  ;  then  he  lay  down  himself. 

The  earth  was  again  magically  smitten  to  crystal. 
Again  the  sharp  cactus  and  the  sand  turned  beautiful, 
and  violet  floated  among  the  mountains,  and  rose-col 
ored  orange  in  the  sky  above  them. 

"Jock,"  said  Specimen  at  length. 

The  boy  opened  his  eyes. 

"  Your  foot  is  awful,  Jock.     Can  y'u  eat  ?" 

"Not  with  my  foot." 

"  Ah,  God  bless  y'u,  Jock  !  Y'u  ain't  turruble  sick. 
But  can  y'u  eat  ?" 

Cumnor  shook  his  head. 

"Eatin's  what  y'u  need,  though.  Well,  here." 
Specimen  poured  a  judicious  mixture  of  whiskey  and 
water  down  the  boy's  throat,  and  wrapped  the  awful 


SPECIMEN   JONES  63 

foot  in  his  own  flannel  shirt.  "  They'll  fix  y'u  over  to 
Grant.  It's  maybe  twelve  miles  through  the  cafkm. 
It  ain't  a  town  any  more  than  Carlos  is,  but  the  sol 
diers  '11  be  good  to  us.  As  soon  as  night  comes  you 
and  me  must  somehow  git  out  of  this." 

Somehow  they  did,  Jones  walking  and  leading  his 
horse  and  the  imperturbable  little  burro,  and  also 
holding  Cumnor  in  the  saddle.  And  when  Cumnor 
was  getting  well  in  the  military  hospital  at  Grant,  he 
listened  to  Jones  recounting  to  all  that  chose  to  hear 
how  useful  a  weapon  an  ice-cream  freezer  can  be,  and 
how  if  you'll  only  chase  Apaches  in  your  stocking 
feet  they  are  sure  to  run  away.  And  then  Jones  and 
Cumnor  both  enlisted  ;  and  I  suppose  Jones's  friend 
is  still  expecting  him  in  Tucson. 


THE    SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU 

UNSKILLED  at  murder  and  without  training  in  run 
ning  away,  one  of  the  two  Healy  boys  had  been 
caught  with  ease  soon  after  their  crime.  What  they 
had  done  may  be  best  learned  in  the  following  extract 
from  a  certain  official  report : 

"  The  stage  was  within  five  miles  of  its  destination 
when  it  was  confronted  by  the  usual  apparition  of  a 
masked  man  levelling  a  double-barrelled  shot-gun  at 
the  driver,  and  the  order  to  '  Pull  up,  and  throw  out 
the  express  box.'  The  driver  promptly  complied. 
Meanwhile  the  guard,  Buck  Montgomery,  who  occu 
pied  a  seat  inside,  from  which  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
what  was  going  on,  opened  fire  at  the  robber,  who 
dropped  to  his  knees  at  the  first  shot,  but  a  moment 
later  discharged  both  barrels  of  his  gun  at  the  stage. 
The  driver  dropped  from  his  seat  to  the  foot-board 
with  five  buckshot  in  his  right  leg  near  the  knee,  and 
two  in  his  left  leg;  a  passenger  by  his  side  also 
dropped  with  three  or  four  buckshot  in  his  legs.  Be 
fore  the  guard  could  reload,  two  shots  came  from  be 
hind  the  bushes  back  of  the  exposed  robber,  and 
Buck  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  stage  mortally  wounded 
— shot  through  the  back.  The  whole  murderous  sally 
occupied  but  a  few  seconds,  and  the  order  came  to 
'  Drive  on.'  Officers  and  citizens  quickly  started  in 


THE   SERENADE   AT  SISKIYOU  65 

pursuit,  and  the  next  day  one  of  the  robbers,  a  well- 
known  young  man  of  that  vicinity,  son  of  a  respecta 
ble  farmer  in  Fresno  County,  was  overtaken  and 
arrested." 

Feeling  had  run  high  in  the  streets  of  Siskiyou 
when  the  prisoner  was  brought  into  town,  and  the 
wretch's  life  had  come  near  a  violent  end  at  the 
hands  of  the  mob,  for  Buck  Montgomery  had  many 
friends.  But  the  steadier  citizens  preserved  the 
peace,  and  the  murderer  was  in  the  prison  awaiting 
his  trial  by  formal  law.  It  was  now  some  weeks  since 
the  tragedy,  and  Judge  Campbell  sat  at  breakfast 
reading  his  paper. 

"  Why,  that  is  excellent !"  he  suddenly  exclaimed. 

"  May  I  ask  what  is  excellent,  judge  ?"  inquired  his 
wife.  She  had  a  big  nose. 

"  They've  caught  the  other  one,  Amanda.  Got  him 
last  evening  in  a  restaurant  at  Woodland."  The  judge 
read  the  paragraph  to  Mrs.  Campbell,  who  listened 
severely.  "  And  so,"  he  concluded,  "  when  to-night's 
train  gets  up,  we'll  have  them  both  safe  in  jail." 

Mrs.  CampbeM  dallied  over  her  eggs,  shaking  her 
head.  Presently  she  sighed.  But  as  Amanda  often 
did  this,  her  husband  finished  his  own  eggs  and  took 
some  more.  "  Poor  boy !"  said  the  lady,  pensively. 
"  Only  twenty-three  last  i2th  of  October.  What  a 
cruel  fate !" 

Now  the  judge  supposed  she  referred  to  the  mur 
dered  man.  "Yes,"  he  said.  "Vile.  You've  got 
him  romantically  young,  my  dear.  I  understood  he 
was  thirty-five." 

"  I  know  his  age  perfectly,  Judge  Campbell.  I 
made  it  my  business  to  find  out.  And  to  think  his 
brother  might  actually  have  been  lynched !" 


66  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  I  never  knew  that  either.  You  seem  to  have 
found  out  all  about  the  family,  Amanda.  What  were 
they  going  to  lynch  the  brother  for  ?" 

The  ample  lady  folded  her  fat,  middle-aged  hands 
on  the  edge  of  the  table,  and  eyed  her  husband  with 
bland  displeasure.  "  Judge  Campbell !"  she  uttered, 
and  her  lips  shut  wide  and  firm.  She  would  restrain 
herself,  if  possible. 

"Well,  my  dear?" 

"You  ask  me  that.  You  pretend  ignorance  of  that 
disgraceful  scene.  Who  was  it  said  to  me  right  in 
the  street  that  he  disapproved  of  lynching?  I  ask 
you,  judge,  who  was  it  right  there  at  the  jail — " 

"Oh  !"  said  the  enlightened  judge. 

"  — Right  at  the  left-hand  side  of  the  door  of  the 
jail  in  this  town  of  Siskiyou,  who  was  it  got  that 
trembling  boy  safe  inside  from  those  yelling  fiends 
and  talked  to  the  crowd  on  a  barrel  of  number  ten 
nails,  and  made  those  wicked  men  stop  and  go 
home  ?" 

"  Amanda,  I  believe  I  recognize  myself." 

"  I  should  think  you  did,  Judge  Campbell.  And 
now  they've  caught  the  other  one,  and  he'll  be  up 
with  the  sheriff  on  to-night's  train,  and  I  suppose 
they'll  lynch  him  now  !" 

"  There's  not  the  slightest  danger,"  said  the  judge. 
"  The  town  wants  them  to  have  a  fair  trial.  It  was 
natural  that  immediately  after  such  an  atrocious 
act—" 

"Those  poor  boys  had  never  murdered  anybody 
before  in  their  lives,"  interrupted  Amanda. 

"  But  they  did  murder  Montgomery,  you  will 
admit." 

"  Oh  yes !"  said  Mrs.  Campbell,  with  impatience. 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  67 

"I  saw  the  hole  in  his  back.  You  needn't  tell  me 
all  that  again.  If  he'd  thrown  out  the  express  box 
quicker  they  wouldn't  have  hurt  a  hair  of  his  head. 
Wells  and  Fargo's  messengers  know  that  perfectly.  It 
was  his  own  fault.  Those  boys  had  no  employment, 
and  they  only  wanted  money.  They  did  not  seek 
human  blood,  and  you  needn't  tell  me  they  did." 

"  They  shed  it,  however,  Amanda.  Quite  a  lot  of 
it.  Stage-driver  and  a  passenger  too." 

"  Yes,  you  keep  going  back  to  that  as  if  they'd  all 
been  murdered  instead  of  only  one,  and  you  don't 
care  about  those  two  poor  boys  locked  in  a  dungeon, 
and  their  gray-haired  father  down  in  Fresno  County 
who  never  did  anything  wrong  at  all,  and  he  sixty- 
one  in  December." 

"  The  county  isn't  thinking  of  hanging  the  old  gen 
tleman,"  said  the  judge. 

"That  will  do,  Judge  Campbell,"  said  his  lady, 
rising.  "  I  shall  say  no  more.  Total  silence  for  the 
present  is  best  for  you  and  best  for  me.  Much  best. 
I  will  leave  you  to  think  of  your  speech,  which  was 
by  no  means  silver.  Not  even  life  with  you  for  twen 
ty-five  years  this  coming  loth  of  July  has  inured  me 
to  insult.  I  am  capable  of  understanding  whom  they 
think  of  hanging,  and  your  speaking  to  me  as  if  I  did 
not  does  you  little  credit ;  for  it  was  a  mere  refuge 
from  a  woman's  just  accusation  of  heartlessness 
which  you  felt,  and  like  a  man  would  not  acknowl 
edge  ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  I  say  no  more  but 
leave  you  to  go  down  the  street  to  the  Ladies'  Ly 
ceum  where  I  shall  find  companions  with  some  spark 
of  humanity  in  their  bosoms  and  milk  of  human  kind 
ness  for  those  whose  hasty  youth  has  plunged  them 
in  misery  and  delivered  them  to  the  hands  of  those 


68  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

who  treat  them  as  if  they  were  stones  and  sticks  full 
of  nothing  but  monstrosity  instead  of  breathing  men 
like  themselves  to  be  shielded  by  brotherhood  and 
hope  and  not  dashed  down  by  cruelty  and  despair." 

It  had  begun  stately  as  a  dome,  with  symmetry 
and  punctuation,  but  the  climax  was  untrammelled 
by  a  single  comma.  The  orator  swept  from  the 
room,  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  the  judge, 
still  sitting  with  his  eggs,  heard  the  front  door  close 
behind  her.  She  was  president  of  the  Ladies'  Re 
form  and  Literary  Lyceum,  and  she  now  trod  thither 
ward  through  Siskiyou. 

"  I  think  Amanda  will  find  companions  there," 
mused  the  judge.  "  But  her  notions  of  sympathy  beat 
me."  The  judge  had  a  small,  wise  blue  eye,  and  he 
liked  his  wife  more  than  well.  She  was  sincerely 
good,  and  had  been  very  courageous  in  their  young 
days  of  poverty.  She  loved  their  son,  and  she  loved 
him.  Only,  when  she  took  to  talking,  he  turned  up  a 
mental  coat-collar  and  waited.  But  if  the  male  sex  did 
not  appreciate  her  powers  of  eloquence  her  sister  citi 
zens  did ;  and  Mrs.  Campbell,  besides  presiding  at 
the  Ladies'  Reform  and  Literary  Lyceum  in  Siskiyou, 
often  addressed  female  meetings  in  Ashland,  Yreka, 
and  even  as  far  away  as  Tehama  and  Redding.  She 
found  companions  this  morning. 

"  To  think  of  it !"  they  exclaimed,  at  her  news  of  the 
capture,  for  none  had  read  the  paper.  They  had  been 
too  busy  talking  of  the  next  debate,  which  was  upon 
the  question,  "  Ought  we  to  pray  for  rain  ?"  But  now 
they  instantly  forgot  the  wide  spiritual  issues  raised 
by  this  inquiry,  and  plunged  into  the  fascinations  of 
crime,  reciting  once  more  to  each  other  the  details  of 
the  recent  tragedy.  The  room  hired  for  the  Lyceum 


THE    SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  69 

was  in  a  second  story  above  the  apothecary  and  book 
shop  —  a  combined  enterprise  in  Siskiyou  —  and  was 
furnished  with  fourteen  rocking-chairs.  Pictures  of 
Mount  Shasta  and  Lucretia  Mott  ornamented  the 
wall,  with  a  photograph  from  an  old  master  represent 
ing  Leda  and  the  Swan.  This  typified  the  Lyceum's 
approval  of  Art,  and  had  been  presented  by  one  of 
the  husbands  upon  returning  from  a  three  days'  busi 
ness  trip  to  San  Francisco. 

"Dear!  dear!"  said  Mrs.  Parsons,  after  they  had 
all  shuddered  anew  over  the  shooting  and  the  blood. 
"With  so  much  suffering  in  the  world,  how  fulsome 
seems  that  gay  music  !"  She  referred  to  the  Siskiyou 
brass-band,  which  was  rehearsing  the  march  from  "  Fati- 
nitza"  in  an  adjacent  room  in  the  building.  Mrs.  Par 
sons  had  large,  mournful  eyes,  a  poetic  vocabulary, 
and  wanted  to  be  president  of  the  Lyceum  herself. 

"  Melody  has  its  sphere,  Gertrude,"  said  Mrs.  Camp 
bell,  in  a  wholesome  voice.  "  We  must  not  be  mor 
bid.  But  this  I  say  to  you,  one  and  all :  Since  the 
men  of  Siskiyou  refuse,  it  is  for  the  women  to  vindi 
cate  the  town's  humanity,  and  show  some  sympathy  for 
the  captive  who  arrives  to-night." 

They  all  thought  so  too. 

"  I  do  not  criticise,"  continued  their  president,  mag 
nanimously,  "nor  do  I  complain  of  any  one.  Each  in 
this  world  has  his  or  her  mission,  and  the  most  sacred 
is  Woman's  own — to  console  !" 

"True,  true  !"  murmured  Mrs.  Slocum. 

"We  must  do  something  for  the  prisoner,  to  show 
him  we  do  not  desert  him  in  his  hour  of  need,"  Mrs. 
Campbell  continued. 

"  We'll  go  and  meet  the  train !"  Mrs.  Slocum  ex 
claimed,  eagerly.  "  I've  never  seen  a  real  murderer." 


70  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

"A  bunch  of  flowers  for  him,"  said  Mrs.  Parsons, 
closing  her  mournful  eyes.  "  Roses."  And  she  smiled 
faintly. 

"Oh,  lilies!"  cried  little  Mrs.  Day,  with  rapture. 
"  Lilies  would  look  real  nice." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  said  Miss  Sissons,  who  had  not 
spoken  before,  and  sat  a  little  apart  from  the  close- 
drawn  clump  of  talkers,  "  that  we  might  send  the  wid 
ow  some  flowers  too,  some  time  ?"  Miss  Sissons  was 
a  pretty  girl,  with  neat  hair.  She  was  engaged  to  the 
captain  of  Siskiyou's  baseball  nine. 

"The  widow?"     Mrs.  Campbell  looked  vague. 

"  Mrs.  Montgomery,  I  mean — the  murdered  man's 
wife.  I — I  went  to  see  if  I  could  do  anything,  for  she 
has  some  children  ;  but  she  wouldn't  see  me,"  said 
Miss  Sissons.  "  She  said  she  couldn't  talk  to  anybody." 

"  Poor  thing  !"  said  Mrs.  Campbell.  "  I  dare  say 
it  was  a  dreadful  shock  to  her.  Yes,  dear,  we'll  at 
tend  to  her  after  a  while.  We'll  have  her  with  us  right 
along,  you  know,  whereas  these  unhappy  boys  may — 
may  be — may  soon  meet  a  cruel  death  on  the  scaf 
fold."  Mrs.  Campbell  evaded  the  phrase  "may  be 
hanged"  rather  skilfully.  To  her  trained  oratorical 
sense  it  had  seemed  to  lack  dignity. 

"  So  young !"  said  Mrs.  Day. 

"And  both  so  full  of  promise,  to  be  cut  off!"  said 
Mrs.  Parsons. 

"  Why,  they  can't  hang  them  both,  I  should  think," 
said  Miss  Sissons.  "I  thought  only  one  killed  Mr. 
Montgomery." 

"  My  dear  Louise,"  said  Mrs  Campbell,  "  they  can 
do  anything  they  want,  and  they  will.  Shall  I  ever 
forget  those  ruffians  who  wanted  to  lynch  the  first 
one  ?  They'll  be  on  the  jury  !" 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  71 

The  clump  returned  to  their  discussion  of  the  flow 
ers,  and  Miss  Sissons  presently  mentioned  she  had 
some  errands  to  do,  and  departed. 

"  Would  that  that  girl  had  more  soul !"  said  Mrs. 
Parsons. 

"  She  has  plenty  of  soul,"  replied  Mrs.  Campbell, 
"  but  she's  under  the  influence  of  a  man.  Well,  as  I 
was  saying,  roses  and  lilies  are  too  big." 

"  Oh,  why  ?"  said  Mrs.  Day.  "  They  would  please 
him  so." 

"He  couldn't  carry  them,  Mrs.  Day.  I've  thought 
it  all  out.  He'll  be  walked  to  the  jail  between  strong 
men.  We  must  have  some  small  bokay  to  pin  on  his 
coat,  for  his  hands  will  be  shackled." 

"You  don't  say!"  cried  Mrs.  Slocum.  "  How  aw 
ful  !  I  must  get  to  that  train.  I've  never  seen  a  man 
in  shackles  in  my  life." 

So  violets  were  selected ;  Mrs.  Campbell  brought 
some  in  the  afternoon  from  her  own  borders,  and  Mrs. 
Parsons  furnished  a  large  pin.  She  claimed  also  the 
right  to  affix  the  decoration  upon  the  prisoner's  breast 
because  she  had  suggested  the  idea  of  flowers ;  but 
the  other  ladies  protested,  and  the  president  seemed  to 
think  that  they  all  should  draw  lots.  It  fell  to  Mrs.  Day. 

"  Now  I  declare  !"  twittered  the  little  matron.  "  I 
do  believe  I'll  never  dare." 

"You  must  say  something  to  him,"  said  Amanda; 
"something  fitting  and  choice." 

"  Oh  dear  no,  Mrs.  Campbell.  Why,  I  never — my 
gracious!  Why,  if  I'd  known  I  was  expected — 
Really,  I  couldn't  think —  I'll  let  you  do  it !" 

"We  can't  hash  up  the  ceremony  that  way,  Mrs. 
Day,"  said  Amanda,  severely.  And  as  they  all  fell  ar 
guing,  the  whistle  blew. 


72  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  There  !"  said  Mrs.  Slocum.  "  Now  you've  made 
me  late,  and  I'll  miss  the  shackles  and  everything." 

She  flew  down-stairs,  and  immediately  the  town  of 
Siskiyou  saw  twelve  members  of  the  Ladies'  Reform 
and  Literary  Lyceum  follow  her  in  a  hasty  phalanx 
across  the  square  to  the  station.  The  train  ap 
proached  slowly  up  the  grade,  and  by  the  time  the  wide 
smoke-stack  of  the  locomotive  was  puffing  its  wood 
smoke  in  clouds  along  the  platform,  Amanda  had 
marshalled  her  company  there. 

"  Where's  the  gals  all  goin',  Bill  ?"  inquired  a  large 
citizen  in  boots  of  the  ticket-agent. 

"Nowheres,  I  guess,  Abe,"  the  agent  replied. 
"  Leastways,  they  'ain't  bought  any  tickets  off  me." 

"  Maybe  they're  for  stealin'  a  ride,"  said  Abe. 

The  mail  and  baggage  cars  had  passed,  and  the 
women  watched  the  smoking-car  that  drew  up  oppo 
site  them.  Mrs.  Campbell  had  informed  her  friends 
that  the  sheriff  always  went  in  the  smoker ;  but  on 
this  occasion,  for  some  reason,  he  had  brought  his 
prisoner  in  the  Pullman  sleeper  at  the  rear,  some  way 
down  the  track,  and  Amanda's  vigilant  eye  suddenly 
caught  the  group,  already  descended  and  walking 
away.  The  platoon  of  sympathy  set  off,  and  rapidly 
came  up  with  the  sheriff,  while  Bill,  Abe,  the  train  con 
ductor,  the  Pullman  conductor,  the  engineer,  and  the 
fireman  abandoned  their  duty,  and  stared,  in  company 
with  the  brakemen  and  many  passengers.  There  was 
perfect  silence  but  for  the  pumping  of  the  air-brake  on 
the  engine.  The  sheriff,  not  understanding  what  was 
coming,  had  half  drawn  his  pistol ;  but  now,  surround 
ed  by  universal  petticoats,  he  pulled  off  his  hat  and 
grinned  doubtfully.  The  friend  with  him  also  stood 
bareheaded  and  grinning.  He  was  young  Jim  Horn- 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  73 

brook,  the  muscular  betrothed  of  Miss  Sissons.  The 
prisoner  could  not  remove  his  hat,  or  he  would  have 
done  so.  Miss  Sissons,  who  had  come  to  the  train 
to  meet  her  lover,  was  laughing  extremely  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  road. 

"Take  these  violets,"  faltered  Mrs.  Day,  and  held 
out  the  bunch,  backing  away  slightly  at  the  same  time. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Amanda,  stepping  forward  and 
grasping  the  flowers.  "The  women  of  Siskiyou  are 
with  you,"  she  said,  "  as  we  are  with  all  the  afflicted." 
Then  she  pinned  the  violets  firmly  to  the  prisoner's 
flannel  shirt.  His  face,  at  first  amazed  as  the  sheriffs 
and  Hornbrook's,  smoothed  into  cunning  and  vanity, 
while  Hornbrook's  turned  an  angry  red,  and  the  sheriff 
stopped  grinning. 

"Them  flowers  would  look  better  on  Buck  Mont 
gomery's  grave,  madam,"  said  the  officer.  "  Maybe 
you'll  let  us  pass  now."  They  went  on  to  the  jail. 

"Waal,"  said  Abe,  on  the  platform,  "  that's  the  most 
disgustin'  fool  thing  I  ever  did  see." 

"  All  aboard  !"  said  the  conductor,  and  the  long 
train  continued  its  way  to  Portland. 

The  platoon,  well  content,  dispersed  homeward  to 
supper,  and  Jim  Hornbrook  walked  home  with  his  girl. 

"  For  Lord's  sake,  Louise,"  he  said,  "  who  started 
that  move?" 

She  told  him  the  history  of  the  morning. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  you  tell  Mrs.  Campbell,  with  my 
respects,  that  she's  just  playing  with  fire.  A  good 
woman  like  her  ought  to  have  more  sense.  Those 
men  are  going  to  have  a  fair  trial." 

"  She  wouldn't  listen  to  me,  Jim,  not  a  bit.  And, 
do  you  know,  she  really  didn't  seem  to  feel  sorry — 
except  just  for  a  minute — about  that  poor  woman." 


74  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  Louise,  why  don't  you  quit  her  outfit  ?" 

"  Resign  from  the  Lyceum  ?  That's  so  silly  of  you, 
Jim.  We're  not  all  crazy  there ;  and  that,"  said  Miss 
Sissons,  demurely,  "  is  what  makes  a  girl  like  me  so 
valuable  P 

"  Well,  I'm  not  stuck  on  having  you  travel  with 
that  lot." 

"  They  speak  better  English  than  you  do,  Jim  dear. 
Don't !  in  the  street !" 

"  Sho  !  It's  dark  now,"  said  Jim.  "  And  it's  been 
three  whole  days  since—"  But  Miss  Sissons  escaped 
inside  her  gate  and  rang  the  bell.  "  Now  see  here, 
Louise,"  he  called  after  her,  "when  I  say  they're  play 
ing  with  fire  I  mean  it.  That  woman  will  make  trou 
ble  in  this  town." 

"  She's  not  afraid,"  said  Miss  Sissons.  "  Don't 
you  know  enough  about  us  yet  to  know  we  can't  be 
threatened?" 

"  You !"  said  the  young  man.  "  I  wasn't  thinking 
of  you."  And  so  they  separated. 

Mrs.  Campbell  sat  opposite  the  judge  at  supper, 
and  he  saw  at  once  from  her  complacent  reticence 
that  she  had  achieved  some  triumph  against  his  prin 
ciples.  She  chatted  about  topics  of  the  day  in  terms 
that  were  ingeniously  trite.  Then  a  letter  came  from 
their  son  in  Denver,  and  she  forgot  her  role  some 
what,  and  read  the  letter  aloud  to  the  judge,  and  won 
dered  wistfully  who  in  Denver  attended  to  the  boy's 
buttons  and  socks ;  but  she  made  no  reference  what 
ever  to  Siskiyou  jail  or  those  inside  it.  Next  morn 
ing,  however,  it  was  the  judge's  turn  to  be  angry. 

"Amanda,"  he  said,  over  the  paper  again,  "  you  had 
better  stick  to  socks,  and  leave  criminals  alone." 

Amanda  gazed  at  space  with  a  calm  smile. 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  75 

"  And  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  my  dear,"  her  hus 
band  said,  more  incisively,  "  it  don't  look  well  that  I 
should  represent  the  law  while  my  wife  figures  "  (he 
shook  the  morning  paper)  "  as  a  public  nuisance. 
And  one  thing  more:  Look  out !  For  if  I  know  this 
community,  and  I  think  I  do,  you  may  raise  something 
you  don't  bargain  for." 

"  I  can  take  care  of  myself,  judge,"  said  Amanda, 
always  smiling.  These  two  never  were  angry  both  at 
once,  and  to-day  it  was  the  judge  that  sailed  out  of 
the  house.  Amanda  pounced  instantly  upon  the 
paper.  The  article  was  headed  "Sweet  Violets." 
But  the  editorial  satire  only  spurred  the  lady  to  higher 
efforts.  She  proceeded  to  the  Lyceum,  and  found 
that  "  Sweet  Violets "  had  been  there  before  her. 
Every  woman  held  a  copy,  and  the  fourteen  rocking- 
chairs  were  swooping  up  and  down  like  things  in  a 
factory.  In  the  presence  of  this  blizzard,  Mount 
Shasta,  Lucretia  Mott,  and  even  Leda  and  the  Swan 
looked  singularly  serene  on  their  wall,  although  on 
the  other  side  of  the  wall  the  "  Fatinitza"  march  was 
booming  brilliantly.  But  Amanda  quieted  the  storm. 
It  was  her  gift  to  be  calm  when  others  were  not,  and 
soon  the  rocking-chairs  were  merely  rippling. 

"The  way  my  boys  scolded  me — "  began  Mrs. 
Day. 

"  For  men  I  care  not,"  said  Mrs.  Parsons.  "  But 
when  my  own  sister  upbraids  me  in  a  public  place— 
The  lady's  voice  ceased,  and  she  raised  her  mournful 
eyes.  It  seemed  she  had  encountered  her  unnatural 
relative  at  the  post-office.  Everybody  had  a  tale  sim 
ilar.  Siskiyou  had  denounced  their  humane  act. 

"  Let  them  act  ugly,"  said  Mrs.  Slocum.  "  We  will 
not  swerve." 


76  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  I  sent  roses  this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Parsons. 

"  Did  you,  dear  ?"  said  Mrs.  Day.  "  My  lilies  shall 
go  this  afternoon." 

"  Here  is  a  letter  from  the  prisoner,"  said  Amanda, 
producing  the  treasure ;  and  they  huddled  to  hear  it. 
It  was  very  affecting.  It  mentioned  the  violets  bloom 
ing  beside  the  hard  couch,  and  spoke  of  prayer. 

"  He  had  lovely  hair,"  said  Mrs.  Slocum. 

"So  brown  !"  said  Mrs.  Day. 

"  Black,  my  dear,  and  curly." 

"Light  brown.     I  was  a  good  deal  closer,  Susan — " 

"  Never  mind  about  his  hair,"  said  Amanda.  "  We 
are  here  not  to  flinch.  We  must  act.  Our  course  is 
chosen,  and  well  chosen.  The  prison  fare  is  a  sin, 
and  a  beefsteak  goes  to  them  both  at  noon  from  my 
house." 

"  Oh,  why  didn't  we  ever  think  of  that  before  ?" 
cried  the  ladies,  in  an  ecstasy,  and  fell  to  planning  a 
series  of  lunches  in  spite  of  what  Siskiyou  might  say 
or  do.  Siskiyou  did  not  say  very  much  ;  but  it  looked  ; 
and  the  ladies  waxed  more  enthusiastic,  luxuriating  in 
a  sense  of  martyrdom  because  now  the  prisoners 
were  stopped  writing  any  more  letters  to  them.  This 
was  doubtless  a  high-handed  step,  and  it  set  certain 
pulpits  preaching  about  love.  The  day  set  for  the 
trial  was  approaching  ;  Amanda  and  her  flock  were 
going.  Prayer-meetings  were  held,  food  and  flowers 
for  the  two  in  jail  increased  in  volume,  and  every  day 
saw  some  of  the  Lyceum  waiting  below  the  prisoners' 
barred  windows  till  the  men  inside  would  thrust  a 
hand  through  and  wave  to  them ;  then  they  would 
shake  a  handkerchief  in  reply,  and  go  away  thrilled 
to  talk  it  over  at  the  Lyceum.  And  Siskiyou  looked 
on  all  the  while,  darker  and  darker. 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  77 

Then  finally  Amanda  had  a  great  thought.  Listen 
ing  to  "  Fatinitza  "  one  morning,  she  suddenly  arose 
and  visited  Herr  Schwartz,  the  band-master.  Herr 
Schwartz  was  a  wise  and  well-educated  German. 
They  had  a  lengthy  conference. 

"  I  don't  pelief  dot  vill  be  very  goot,"  said  the 
band-master. 

But  at  that  Amanda  talked  a  good  deal ;  and  the 
worthy  Teuton  was  soon  bewildered,  and  at  last 
gave  a  dubious  consent,  "  since  it  would  blease  de 
ladies." 

The  president  of  the  Lyceum  arranged  the  coming 
event  after  her  own  heart  The  voice  of  Woman 
should  speak  in  Siskiyou.  The  helpless  victims  of  male 
prejudice  and  the  law  of  the  land  were  to  be  flanked 
with  consolation  and  encouragement  upon  the  eve  of 
their  ordeal  in  court.  In  their  lonely  cell  they  were 
to  feel  that  there  were  those  outside  whose  hearts 
beat  with  theirs.  The  floral  tribute  was  to  be  sump 
tuous,  and  Amanda  had  sent  to  San  Francisco  for 
pound-cake.  The  special  quality  she  desired  could 
not  be  achieved  by  the  Siskiyou  confectioner. 

Miss  Sissons  was  not  a  party  to  this  enterprise, 
and  she  told  its  various  details  to  Jim  Hornbrook, 
half  in  anger,  half  in  derision.  He  listened  without 
comment,  and  his  face  frightened  her  a  little. 

"Jim,  what's  the  matter?"  said  she. 

"  Are  you  going  to  be  at  that  circus  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  I  thought  I  might  just  look  on,  you  know,"  said 
Miss  Sissons.  "  Mrs.  Campbell  and  a  brass-band — " 

"  You'll  stay  in  the  house  that  night,  Louise." 

"  Why,  the  ring  isn't  on  my  finger  yet,"  laughed  the 
girl,  "the  fatal  promise  of  obedience — "  But  she 
stopped,  perceiving  her  joke  was  not  a  good  one. 


78  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

"  Of  course,  Jim,  if  you  feel  that  way,"  she  finished 
"  Only  I'm  grown  up,  and  I  like  reasons." 

«  Well— that's  all  right  too." 

"  Ho,  ho  !     All  right !    Thank  you,  sir.     Dear  me  !" 

"  Why,  it  ain't  to  please  me,  Louise  ;  indeed  it  ain't. 
I  can't  swear  everything  won't  be  nice  and  all  right 
and  what  a  woman  could  be  mixed  up  in,  but — well, 
how  should  you  know  what  men  are,  anyway,  when 
they've  been  a  good  long  time  getting  mad,  and  are 
mad  all  through  ?  That's  what  this  town  is  to-day, 
Louise." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Sissons,  "and  I'm  sure 
I'd  rather  not  know."  And  so  she  gave  her  promise. 
"  But  I  shouldn't  suppose,"  she  added,  "  that  the  men 
of  Siskiyou,  mad  or  not,  would  forget  that  women  are 
women." 

Jim  laughed.  "  Oh  no,"  he  said,  "  they  ain't  going 
to  forget  that." 

The  appointed  day  came  ;  and  the  train  came,  sev 
eral  hours  late,  bearing  the  box  of  confectionery,  ad 
dressed  to  the  Ladies'  Reform  and  Literary  Lyceum. 
Bill,  the  ticket- agent,  held  his  lantern  over  it  on  the 
platform. 

"  That's  the  cake,"  said  he. 

"  What  cake  ?"  Abe  inquired. 

Bill  told  him  the  rumor. 

"Cake?"  repeated  Abe.  "  Fer  them?"  and  he 
tilted  his  head  towards  the  jail.  "  Will  you  say  that 
again,  friend  ?  I  ain't  clear  about  it.  Cake,  did  ye 
say?" 

"  Pound  -  cake,"  said  Bill.  "  Ordered  special  from 
San  Francisco." 

Now  pound-cake  for  adults  is  considered  harmless. 
But  it  is  curious  how  unwholesome  a  harmless  thing 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  79 

can  be  if  administered  at  the  wrong  time.  The  gaunt, 
savage-looking  Californian  went  up  to  the  box  slowly. 
Then  he  kicked  it  lightly  with  his  big  boot,  seeming 
to  listen  to  its  reverberation.  Then  he  read  the  ad 
dress.  Then  he  sat  down  on  the  box  to  take  a 
think.  After  a  time  he  began  speaking  aloud. 
"  They  hold  up  a  stage,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  They 
lay  up  a  passenger  fer  a  month.  And  they  lame 
Bob  Griffiths  fer  life.  And  then  they  do  up  Buck. 
Shoot  a  hole  through  his  spine.  And  I  helped  bury 
him ;  fer  I  liked  Buck."  The  speaker  paused,  and 
looked  at  the  box.  Then  he  got  up.  "  I  hain't  at 
tended  their  prayer-meetin's,"  said  he,  "and  I  hain't 
smelt  their  flowers.  Such  perfume's  liable  to  make 
me  throw  up.  But  I  guess  I'll  hev  a  look  at  their 
cake." 

He  went  to  the  baggage-room  and  brought  an  axe. 
The  axe  descended,  and  a  splintered  slat  flew  across 
the  platform.  "  There's  a  lot  of  cake,"  said  Abe.  The 
top  of  the  packing-case  crashed  on  the  railroad  track, 
and  three  new  men  gathered  to  look  on.  "  It's  fresh 
cake  too,"  remarked  the  destroyer.  The  box  now  fell 
to  pieces,  and  the  tattered  paper  wrapping  was  ripped 
away.  "  Step  up,  boys,"  said  Abe,  for  a  little  crowd 
was  there  now.  "  Soft,  ain't  it  ?"  They  slung  the  cake 
about  and  tramped  it  in  the  grime  and  oil,  and  the 
boards  of  the  box  were  torn  apart  and  whirled  away. 
There  was  a  singular  and  growing  impulse  about  all 
this.  No  one  said  anything ;  they  were  very  quiet ; 
yet  trre  crowd  grew  quickly,  as  if  called  together  by 
something  in  the  air.  One  voice  said,  "  Don't  forgit 
we're  all  relyin'  on  yer  serenade,  Mark,"  and  this 
raised  a  strange  united  laugh  that  broke  brief  and 
loud,  and  stopped,  leaving  the  silence  deeper  than  be- 


80  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

fore.  Mark  and  three  more  left,  and  walked  towards 
the  Lyceum.  They  were  members  of  the  Siskiyou 
band,  and  as  they  went  one  said  that  the  town  would 
see  an  interesting  trial  in  the  morning.  Soon  after 
they  had  gone  the  crowd  moved  from  the  station,  com 
pact  and  swift. 

Meanwhile  the  Lyceum  had  been  having  disappoint 
ments.  When  the  train  was  known  to  be  late,  Aman 
da  had  abandoned  bestowing  the  cake  until  morning. 
But  now  a  horrid  thing  had  happened :  the  Siskiyou 
band  refused  its  services  !  The  rocking-chairs  were 
plying  strenuously ;  but  Amanda  strode  up  and  down 
in  front  of  Mount  Shasta  and  Lucretia  Mott. 

Herr  Schwartz  entered.  "It's  all  right,  madam," 
said  he.  "  My  trombone  haf  come  back,  und — " 

"  You'll  play  ?"  demanded  the  president. 

"  We  blay  for  de  ladies." 

The  rocking-chairs  were  abandoned;  the  Lyceum 
put  on  its  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  marshalled  down 
stairs  with  the  band. 

"  Ready,"  said  Amanda. 

"  Ready,"  said  Herr  Schwartz  to  his  musicians. 
"  Go  a  leedle  easy  mit  der  Allegro,  or  we  bust  *  Fati- 
nitza.' " 

The  spirited  strains  were  lifted  in  Siskiyou,  and  the 
procession  was  soon  at  the  jail  in  excellent  order. 
They  came  round  the  corner  with  the  trombone  going 
as  well  as  possible.  Two  jerking  bodies  dangled  at 
the  end  of  ropes,  above  the  flare  of  torches.  Amanda 
and  her  flock  were  shrieking. 

"  So  !"  exclaimed  Herr  Schwartz.  "  Dot  was  dose 
Healy  boys  we  haf  come  to  gif  serenade."  He  signed 
to  stop  the  music. 

"No  you  don't,"  said  two  of  the  masked  crowd, 


THE   SERENADE   AT   SISKIYOU  8 1 

closing  in  with  pistols.  "  You'll  play  fer  them  fellers 
till  you're  told  to  quit." 

"  Cerdainly,"  said  the  philosophical  Teuton.  "  Only 
dey  gif  brobably  very  leedle  attention  to  our  Allegro." 

So  "Fatinitza"  trumpeted  on  while  the  two  on  the 
ropes  twisted,  and  grew  still  by-and-by.  Then  the 
masked  men  let  the  band  go  home.  The  Lyceum  had 
scattered  and  fled  long  since,  and  many  days  passed 
before  it  revived  again  to  civic  usefulness,  nor  did  its 
members  find  comfort  from  their  men.  Herr  Schwartz 
gave  a  parting  look  at  the  bodies  of  the  lynched  mur 
derers.  "  My  !"  said  he,  "  das  Ewigweibliche  haf  draw 
them  apove  sure  enough." 

Miss  Sissons  next  day  was  walking  and  talking  off 
her  shock  and  excitement  with  her  lover.  "And  oh, 
Jim,"  she  concluded,  after  they  had  said  a  good  many 
things,  "you  hadn't  anything  to  do  with  it,  had  you  ?" 
The  young  man  did  not  reply,  and  catching  a  certain 
expression  on  his  face,  she  hastily  exclaimed  :  "  Never 
mind  !  I  don't  want  to  know — ever  !" 

So  James  Hornbrook  kissed  his  sweetheart  for  say 
ing  that,  and  they  continued  their  walk  among  the 
pleasant  hills. 


THE  GENERAL'S    BLUFF 

THE  troops  this  day  had  gone  into  winter-quarters, 
and  sat  down  to  kill  the  idle  time  with  pleasure  until 
spring.  After  two  hundred  and  forty  days  it  is  a  good 
thing  to  sit  down.  The  season  had  been  spent  in 
trailing,  and  sometimes  catching,  small  bands  of  Ind 
ians.  These  had  taken  the  habit  of  relieving  settlers 
of  their  cattle  and  the  tops  of  their  heads.  The 
weather-beaten  troops  had  scouted  over  some  two 
thousand  aimless,  veering  miles,  for  the  savages  were 
fleet  and  mostly  invisible,  and  knew  the  desert  well. 
So,  while  the  year  turned,  and  the  heat  came,  held 
sway,  and  went,  the  ragged  troopers  on  the  frontier 
were  led  an  endless  chase  by  the  hostiles,  who  took 
them  back  and  forth  over  flats  of  lime  and  ridges  of 
slate,  occasionally  picking  off  a  packer  or  a  couple  of 
privates,  until  now  the  sun  was  setting  at  4.28  and  it 
froze  at  any  time  of  day.  Therefore  the  rest  of  the 
packers  and  privates  were  glad  to  march  into  Boise' 
Barracks  this  morning  by  eleven,  and  see  a  stove. 

They  rolled  for  a  moment  on  their  bunks  to  get  the 
feel  of  a  bunk  again  after  two  hundred  and  forty  days  ; 
they  ate  their  dinner  at  a  table;  those  who  owned  any 
further  baggage  than  that  which  partially  covered  their 
nakedness  unpacked  it,  perhaps  nailed  up  a  photograph 
or  two,  and  found  it  grateful  to  sit  and  do  nothing 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  83 

under  a  roof  and  listen  to  the  grated  snow  whip  the 
windows  of  the  gray  sandstone  quarters.  Such  com 
fort,  and  the  prospect  of  more  ahead,  of  weeks  of  noth 
ing  but  post  duty  and  staying  in  the  same  place,  oblit 
erated  Dry  Camp,  Cow  Creek  Lake,  the  blizzard  on 
Meacham's  Hill,  the  horse- killing  in  the  John  Day 
Valley,  Saw-Tooth  stampede,  and  all  the  recent  evils 
of  the  past ;  the  quarters  hummed  with  cheerfulness. 
The  nearest  railroad  was  some  four  hundred  miles  to 
the  southeast,  slowly  constructing  to  meet  the  next 
nearest,  which  was  some  nine  hundred  to  the  south 
east  ;  but  Boise  City  was  only  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
away,  the  largest  town  in  the  Territory,  the  capital,  not 
a  temperance  town,  a  winter  resort  j  and  several  hun 
dred  people  lived  in  it,  men  and  women,  few  of  whom 
ever  died  in  their  beds.  The  coming  days  and  nights 
were  a  luxury  to  think  of. 

"  Blamed  if  there  ain't  a  real  tree !"  exclaimed  Pri 
vate  Jones. 

"  Thet  eer  ain't  no  tree,  ye  plum  ;  thet's  the  flag 
pole  'n'  th'  Merrickin  flag,"  observed  a  civilian.  His 
name  was  Jack  Long,  and  he  was  pack-master. 

Sergeant  Keyser,  listening,  smiled.  During  the 
winter  of  '64-65  he  had  been  in  command  of  the  first 
battalion  of  his  regiment,  but,  on  a  theory  of  education, 
had  enlisted  after  the  war.  This  being  known,  held 
the  men  more  shy  of  him  than  was  his  desire. 

Jones  continued  to  pick  his  banjo,  while  a  boyish 
trooper  with  tough  black  hair  sat  near  him  and  kept 
time  with  his  heels.  "It's  a  cottonwood- tree  I  was 
speakin'  of,"  observed  Jones.  There  was  one — a  little, 
shivering  white  stalk.  It  stood  above  the  flat  where 
the  barracks  were,  on  a  bench  twenty  or  thirty  feet 
higher,  on  which  were  built  the  officers'  quarters. 


84  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

The  air  was  getting  dim  with  the  fine,  hard  snow  that 
slanted  through  it.  The  thermometer  was  ten  above 
out  there.  At  the  mere  sight  and  thought  Mr.  Long 
produced  a  flat  bottle,  warm  from  proximity  to  his 
flesh.  Jones  swallowed  some  drink,  and  looked  at  the 
little  tree.  "  Snakes !  but  it  feels  good,"  said  he,  "  to 
get  something  inside  y'u  and  be  inside  yerself.  What's 
the  tax  at  Mike's  dance-house  now  ?" 

"  Dance  V  drinks  fer  two  fer  one  dollar,"  responded 
Mr.  Long,  accurately.  He  was  sixty,  but  that  made 
no  difference. 

"You  and  me  '11  take  that  in,  Jock,"  said  Jones  to 
his  friend,  the  black-haired  boy.  " '  Sigh  no  more,  la 
dies,'  "  he  continued,  singing.  "  The  blamed  banjo 
won't  accompany  that,"  he  remarked,  and  looked  out 
again  at  the  tree.  "  There's  a  chap  riding  into  the 
post  now.  Shabby-lookin'.  Mebbe  he's  got  stuff  to 
sell." 

Jack  Long  looked  up  on  the  bench  at  a  rusty  figure 
moving  slowly  through  the  storm.  "  Th'  ole  man  !"  he 
said. 

"  He  ain't  specially  old,"  Jones  answered.  "  They're 
apt  to  be  older,  them  peddlers." 

"  Peddlers  !  Oh,  ye-es."  A  seizure  of  very  remark 
able  coughing  took  Jack  Long  by  the  throat ;  but  he 
really  had  a  cough,  and,  on  the  fit's  leaving  him,  swal 
lowed  a  drink,  and  offered  his  bottle  in  a  manner  so 
cold  and  usual  that  Jones  forgot  to  note  anything  but 
the  excellence  of  the  whiskey.  Mr.  Long  winked  at 
Sergeant  Keyser;  he  thought  it  a  good  plan  not  to  in 
form  his  young  friends,  not  just  yet  at  any  rate,  that 
their  peddler  was  General  Crook.  It  would  be  pleas 
ant  to  hear  what  else  they  might  have  to  say. 

The  General  had  reached  Boisd  City  that  morning 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  85 

by  the  stage,  quietly  and  unknown,  as  was  his  way.  He 
had  come  to  hunt  Indians  in  the  district  of  the  Owyhee. 
Jack  Long  had  discovered  this,  but  only  a  few  had 
been  told  the  news,  for  the  General  wished  to  ask 
questions  and  receive  answers,  and  to  find  out  about 
all  things ;  and  he  had  noticed  that  this  is  not  easy 
when  too  many  people  know  who  you  are.  He  had 
called  upon  a  friend  or  two  in  Boise,  walked  about  un 
noticed,  learned  a  number  of  facts,  and  now,  true  to 
his  habit,  entered  the  post  wearing  no  uniform,  none 
being  necessary  under  the  circumstances,  and  unat 
tended  by  a  single  orderly.  Jones  and  the  black- 
haired  Cumnor  hoped  he  was  a  peddler,  and  innocent 
ly  sat  looking  out  of  the  window  at  him  riding  along 
the  bench  in  front  of  the  quarters,  and  occasionally 
slouching  his  wide,  dark  hat-brim  against  the  stinging 
of  the  hard  flakes.  Jack  Long,  old  and  much  expe 
rienced  with  the  army,  had  scouted  with  Crook  before, 
and  knew  him  and  his  ways  well.  He  also  looked  out 
of  the  window,  standing  behind  Jones  and  Cumnor, 
with  a  huge  hairy  hand  on  a  shoulder  of  ea§h,  and  a 
huge  wink  again  at  Keyser. 

"Blamed  if  he  'ain't  stopped  in  front  of  the  com 
manding  officer's,"  said  Jones. 

"  Lor' !"  said  Mr.  Long,  "  there's  jest  nothin'  them 
peddlers  won't  do." 

"  They  ain't  likely  to  buy  anything  off  him  in  there," 
said  Cumnor. 

"Mwell,  ef  he's  purvided  with  any  kind  o'  Injun 
cur'os'tees,  the  missis  she'll  fly  right  on  to  'em.  Sh' 
'ain't  been  merried  out  yere  only  haffn  year,  'n'  when 
she  spies  feathers  'n'  bead  truck  'n'  buckskin  fer  sale 
sh'  hollers  like  a  son  of  a  gun.  Enthoosiastic,  ye 
know." 


86  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

"  He  'ain't  got  much  of  a  pack,"  Jones  commented, 
and  at  that  moment  "  stables  "  sounded,  and  the  men 
ran  out  to  form  and  march  to  their  grooming.  Jack 
Long  stood  at  the  door  and  watched  them  file  through 
the  snow. 

Very  few  enlisted  men  of  the  small  command  that 
had  come  in  this  morning  from  its  campaign  had  ever 
seen  General  Crook.  Jones,  though  not  new  to  the 
frontier,  had  not  been  long  in  the  army.  He  and 
Cumnor  had  enlisted  in  a  happy-go-lucky  manner  to 
gether  at  Grant,  in  Arizona,  when  the  General  was 
elsewhere.  Discipline  was  galling  to  his  vagrant  spirit, 
and  after  each  pay-day  he  had  generally  slept  off  the 
effects  in  the  guard  -  house,  going  there  for  other 
offences  between-whiles ;  but  he  was  not  of  the  stuff 
that  deserts ;  also,  he  was  excellent  tempered,  and  his 
captain  liked  him  for  the  way  in  which  he  could  shoot 
Indians.  Jack  Long  liked  him  too ;  and  getting  always  a 
harmless  pleasure  from  the  mistakes  of  his  friends,  sin 
cerely  trusted  there  might  be  more  about  the  peddler. 
He  was  startled  at  hearing  his  name  spoken  in  his  ear. 

"  Nah  I  Johnny,  how  you  get  on  ?" 

"  Hello,  Sarah  !  Kla-how-ya,  six  ?"  said  Long,  greet 
ing  in  Chinook  the  squaw  interpreter  who  had  ap 
proached  him  so  noiselessly.  "  Hy-as  kloshe  o-coke 
sun  "  (It  is  a  beautiful  day). 

The  interpreter  laughed — she  had  a  broad,  sweet, 
coarse  face,  and  laughed  easily — and  said  in  English, 
"  You  hear  about  E-egante  ?" 

Long  had  heard  nothing  recently  of  this  Pah-Ute 
chieftain. 

"  He  heap  bad,"  continued  Sarah,  laughing  broadly. 
"  Come  round  ranch  up  here — " 

"  Anybody  killed  ?"  Long  interrupted. 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  87 

"  No.  All  run  away  quick.  Meester  Dailey,  he  old 
man,  he  run  all  same  young  one.  His  old  woman  she 
run  all  same  man.  Get  horse.  Run  away  quick. 
Hu-hu !"  and  Sarah's  rich  mockery  sounded  again. 
No  tragedy  had  happened  this  time,  and  the  squaw 
narrated  her  story  greatly  to  the  relish  of  Mr.  Long. 
This  veteran  of  trails  and  mines  had  seen  too  much 
of  life's  bleakness  not  to  cherish  whatever  of  mirth  his 
days  might  bring. 

"  Didn't  burn  the  house  ?"  he  said. 

"  Not  burn.  Just  make  heap  mess.  Cut  up  feather 
bed  hy-as  ten-as  [very  small]  and  eat  big  dinner,  hu-hu  ! 
Sugar,  onions,  meat,  eat  all.  Then  they  find  litt'  cats 
walkin'  round  there." 

"Lor'!"  said  Mr.  Long,  deeply  interested,  "they 
didn't  eat  them  ?" 

"No.  Not  eat  litt'  cats.  Put  'em  two  —  man-cat 
and  woman-cat — in  molasses;  put  'em  in  feather-bed  ; 
all  same  bird.  Then  they  hunt  for  whiskey,  break 
everything,  hunt  all  over,  ha-lo  whiskey!1'  Sarah 
shook  her  head.  "Meester  Dailey  he  good  man. 
Hy-iu  temperance.  Drink  water.  They  find  his 
medicine  ;  drink  all  up ;  make  awful  sick." 

"  I  guess  'twar  th'  ole  man's  liniment,"  muttered 
Jack  Long. 

"  Yas,  milinut.  They  can't  walk.  Stay  there  long 
time,  then  Meester  Dailey  come  back  with  friends. 
They  think  Injuns  all  gone ;  make  noise,  and  E-egante 
he  hear  him  come,  and  he  not  very  sick.  Run  away. 
Some  more  run.  But  two  Injuns  heap  sick ;  can't 
run.  Meester  Dailey  he  come  round  the  corner ;  see 
awful  mess  everywhere ;  see  two  litt'  cats  sittin'  in  door 
all  same  bird,  sing  very  loud.  Then  he  see  two  Injuns 
on  ground.  They  dead  now." 


88  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  Mwell,"  said  Long,  "  none  of  eer  '11  do.  We'll  hev 
to  ketch  E-egante." 

"  A — h  !"  drawled  Sarah  the  squaw,  in  musical  de 
rision.  "Maybe  no  catch  him.  All  same  jack 
rabbit." 

"  Jest  ye  wait,  Sarah ;  Gray  Fox  hez  come." 

"  Gen'l  Crook  !"  said  the  squaw.  "  He  come  !  Ho  ! 
He  heap  savvy."  She  stopped,  and  laughed  again, 
like  a  pleased  child.  "Maybe  no  catch  E-egante," 
she  added,  rolling  her  pretty  brown  eyes  at  Jack 
Long. 

"You  know  E-egante?"  he  demanded. 

"  Yas,  one  time.  Long  time  now.  I  litt'  girl  then." 
But  Sarah  remembered  that  long  time,  when  she  slept 
in  a  tent  and  had  not  been  captured  and  put  to  school. 
And  she  remembered  the  tall  young  boys  whom  she 
used  to  watch  shoot  arrows,  and  the  tallest,  who  shot 
most  truly — at  least,  he  certainly  did  now  in  her  imag 
ination.  He  had  never  spoken  to  her  or  looked  at 
her.  He  was  a  boy  of  fourteen  and  she  a  girl  of 
eight.  Now  she  was  twenty-five.  Also  she  was  tame 
and  domesticated,  with  a  white  husband  who  was  not 
bad  to  her,  and  children  for  each  year  of  wedlock,  who 
would  grow  up  to  speak  English  better  than  she  could, 
and  her  own  tongue  not  at  all.  And  E-egante  was  not 
tame,  and  still  lived  in  a  tent.  Sarah  regarded  white 
people  as  her  friends,  but  she  was  proud  of  being  an 
Indian,  and  she  liked  to  think  that  her  race  could  out 
wit  the  soldier  now  and  then.  She  laughed  again 
when  she  thought  of  old  Mrs.  Dailey  running  from 
E-egante. 

"  What's  up  with  ye,  Sarah  ?"  said  Jack  Long,  for  the 
squaw's  laughter  had  come  suddenly  on  a  spell  of 
silence. 


89 

"  Hd  !"  said  she.  "  All  same  jack-rabbit.  No  catch 
him."  She  stood  shaking  her  head  at  Long,  and  show 
ing  her  white,  regular  teeth.  Then  abruptly  she  went 
away  to  her  tent  without  any  word,  not  because  she 
was  in  ill-humor  or  had  thought  of  something,  but  be 
cause  she  was  an  Indian  and  had  thought  of  nothing, 
and  had  no  more  to  say.  She  met  the  men  returning 
from  the  stables ;  admired  Jones  and  smiled  at  him, 
upon  which  he  murmured  "Oh  fie  !"  as  he  passed  her. 
The  troop  broke  ranks  and  dispersed,  to  lounge  and 
gossip  until  mess-call.  Cumnor  and  Jones  were  put- 
ing  a  little  snow  down  each  other's  necks  with  friendly 
profanity,  when  Jones  saw  the  peddler  standing  close 
and  watching  them.  A  high  collar  of  some  ragged  fur 
was  turned  up  round  his  neck,  disguising  the  charac 
ter  of  the  ancient  army  overcoat  to  which  it  was  at 
tached,  and  spots  and  long  stains  extended  down  the 
legs  of  his  corduroys  to  the  charred  holes  at  the  bot 
tom,  where  the  owner  had  scorched  them  warming  his 
heels  and  calves  at  many  camp-fires. 

"  Hello,  uncle,"  said  Jones.  "  What  y'u  got  in  your 
pack?"  He  and  Cumnor  left  their  gambols  and  eager 
ly  approached,  while  Mr.  Jack  Long,  seeing  the  inter 
view,  came  up  also  to  hear  it.  "  'Ain't  y'u  got  some 
thing  to  sell  ?"  continued  Jones.  "  Y'u  haven't  gone 
and  dumped  yer  whole  outfit  at  the  commanding  offi 
cer's,  have  y'u  now  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I  have."  The  low  voice  shook  ever  so 
little,  and  if  Jones  had  looked  he  would  have  seen  a 
twinkle  come  and  go  in  the  gray-blue  eyes. 

"We've  been  out  eight  months,  yu'  know,  fairly 
steady,"  pursued  Jones,  "  and  haven't  seen  nothing ; 
and  we'd  buy  most  anything  that  ain't  too  damn  bad," 
he  concluded,  plaintively. 


go  RED   MEN    AND   WHITE 

Mr.  Long,  in  the  background,  was  whining  to  himself 
with  joy,  and  he  now  urgently  beckoned  Keyser  to 
come  and  hear  this. 

"  If  you've  got  some  cheap  poker  chips,"  suggested 
Cumnor. 

"  And  say,  uncle,"  said  Jones,  raising  his  voice,  for 
the  peddler  was  moving  away,  "  decks,  and  tobacco 
better  than  what  they  keep  at  the  commissary.  Me 
and  my  friend  '11  take  some  off  your  hands.  And  if 
you're  comin'  with  new  stock  to-morrow,  uncle"  (Jones 
was  now  shouting  after  him),  "  why,  we're  single  men, 
and  y'u  might  fetch  along  a  couple  of  squaws !" 

"  Holy  smoke  !"  screeched  Mr.  Long,  dancing  on 
one  leg. 

"  What's  up  with  you,  y'u  ape  ?"  inquired  Specimen 
Jones.  He  looked  at  the  departing  peddler  and  saw 
Sergeant  Keyser  meet  him  and  salute  with  stern,  sol 
dierly  aspect.  Then  the  peddler  shook  hands  with 
the  sergeant,  seemed  to  speak  pleasantly,  and  again 
Keyser  saluted  as  he  passed  on.  "  What's  that  for  ?" 
Jones  asked,  uneasily.  "  Who  is  that  hobo  ?" 

But  Mr.  Long  was  talking  to  himself  in  a  highly 
moralizing  strain.  " It  ain't  every  young  enlisted  man," 
he  was  saying, "  ez  hez  th'  privilege  of  explainin'  his 
wants  at  headquarters." 

"Jones,"  said  Sergeant  Keyser,  arriving,  "I've  a 
compliment  for  you.  General  Crook  said  you  were  a 
fine-looking  man." 

"  General  ?  —  What's  that  ?  —  Where  did  y'u  see— 
What  ?  Him  1"  The  disgusting  truth  flashed  clear  on 
Jones.  Uttering  a  single  disconcerted  syllable  of  rage, 
he  wheeled  and  went  by  himself  into  the  barracks,  and 
lay  down  solitary  on  his  bunk  and  read  a  newspaper 
until  mess-call  without  taking  in  a  word  of  it.  "  If 


91 

they  go  to  put  me  in  the  mill  fer  that,"  he  said,  sulk 
ily,  to  many  friends  who  brought  him  their  congratula 
tions,  "  I'm  going  to  give  'em  what  I  think  about  wear- 
in'  disguises." 

"What  do  you  think,  Specimen  ?"  said  one. 

"Give  it  to  us  now,  Specimen,"  said  another. 

"  Against  the  law,  ain't  it,  Specimen  ?" 

"  Begosh !"  said  Jack  Long,  "  ef  thet's  so,  don't  lose 
no  time  warnin'  the  General,  Specimen.  Th'  ole  man 
'd  hate  to  be  arrested." 

And  Specimen  Jones  told  them  all  to  shut  their 
heads. 

But  no  thought  was  more  distant  from  General 
Crook's  busy  mind  than  putting  poor  Jones  in  the 
guard-house.  The  trooper's  willingness,  after  eight 
months  hunting  Indians,  to  buy  almost  anything 
brought  a  smile  to  his  lips,  and  a  certain  sympathy  in 
his  heart.  He  knew  what  those  eight  months  had 
been  like  ;  how  monotonous,  how  well  endured,  how 
often  dangerous,  how  invariably  plucky,  how  scant  of 
even  the  necessities  of  life,  how  barren  of  glory,  and 
unrewarded  by  public  recognition.  The  American 
"  statesman  "  does  not  care  about  our  army  until  it  be 
comes  necessary  for  his  immediate  personal  protec 
tion.  General  Crook  knew  all  this  well ;  and  realizing 
that  these  soldiers,  who  had  come  into  winter-quarters 
this  morning  at  eleven,  had  earned  a  holiday,  he  was 
sorry  to  feel  obliged  to  start  them  out  again  to-morrow 
morning  at  two ;  for  this  was  what  he  had  decided 
upon. 

He  had  received  orders  to  drive  on  the  reservation 
the  various  small  bands  of  Indians  that  were  roving 
through  the  country  of  the  Snake  and  its  tributaries,  a 
danger  to  the  miners  in  the  Bannock  Basin,  and  to 


92  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

the  various  ranches  in  west  Idaho  and  east  Oregon. 
As  usual,  he  had  been  given  an  insufficient  force  to  ac 
complish  this,  and,  as  always,  he  had  been  instructed 
by  the  "  statesmen  "  to  do  it  without  violence — that  is 
to  say,  he  must  never  shoot  the  poor  Indian  until  after 
the  poor  Indian  had  shot  him  ;  he  must  make  him  do 
something  he  did  not  want  to,  pleasantly,  by  the  fasci 
nation  of  argument,  in  the  way  a  "  statesman  "  would 
achieve  it.  The  force  at  the  General's  disposal  was 
the  garrison  at  Boise'  Barracks — one  troop  of  cavalry 
and  one  company  of  infantry.  The  latter  was  not 
adapted  to  the  matter  in  hand — rapid  marching  and 
surprises ;  all  it  could  be  used  for  was  as  a  reinforce 
ment,  and,  moreover,  somebody  must  be  left  at  Boise 
Barracks.  The  cavalry  had  had  its  full  dose  of  scout 
ing  and  skirmishing  and  long  exposed  marches,  the 
horses  were  poor,  and  nobody  had  any  trousers  to 
speak  of.  Also,  the  troop  was  greatly  depleted ;  it 
numbered  forty  men.  Forty  had  deserted,  and  three 
— a  sergeant  and  three  privates  —  had  cooked  and 
eaten  a  vegetable  they  had  been  glad  to  dig  up  one 
day,  and  had  spent  the  ensuing  forty-five  minutes  in 
attempting  to  make  their  ankles  beat  the  backs  of 
their  heads  ;  after  that  the  captain  had  read  over  them 
a  sentence  beginning,  "  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman 
hath  but  a  short  time  to  live,  and  is  full  of  misery  "  ; 
and  after  that  the  camp  was  referred  to  as  Wild  Carrot 
Camp,  because  the  sergeant  had  said  the  vegetable 
was  wild  carrot,  whereas  it  had  really  been  wild  pars 
nip,  which  is  quite  another  thing. 

General  Crook  shook  his  head  over  what  he  saw. 
The  men  were  ill-provided,  the  commissary  and  the 
quartermaster  department  were  ill-provided ;  but  it 
would  have  to  do ;  the  "  statesmen  "  said  our  army 


THE   GENERAL  S    BLUFF  93 

was  an  extravagance.  The  Indians  must  be  impressed 
and  intimidated  by  the  unlimited  resources  which  the 
General  had — not.  Having  come  to  this  conclusion, 
he  went  up  to  the  post  commander's,  and  at  supper 
astonished  that  officer  by  casual  remarks  which  re 
vealed  a  knowledge  of  the  surrounding  country,  the 
small  streams,  the  best  camps  for  pasture,  spots  to 
avoid  on  account  of  bad  water,  what  mules  had  sore 
backs,  and  many  other  things  that  the  post  commander 
would  have  liked  dearly  to  ask  the  General  where  and 
when  he  had  learned,  only  he  did  not  dare.  He  did 
not  even  venture  to  ask  him  what  he  was  going  to  do. 
Neither  did  Captain  Glynn,  who  had  been  asked  to 
meet  the  General.  The  General  soon  told  them,  how 
ever.  "  It  may  be  a  little  cold,"  he  concluded. 

"  To-morrow,  sir  ?"  This  from  Captain  Glynn.  He 
had  come  in  with  the  forty  that  morning.  He  had 
been  enjoying  his  supper  very  much. 

"  I  think  so,"  said  the  General.  "  This  E-egante  is 
likely  to  make  trouble  if  he  is  not  checked."  Then, 
understanding  the  thoughts  of  Captain  Glynn,  he  add 
ed,  with  an  invisible  smile,  "You  need  no  preparations. 
You're  in  marching  order.  It's  not  as  if  your  men 
had  been  here  a  long  time  and  had  to  get  ready  for  a 
start." 

"Oh  no,"  said  Glynn,  "it  isn't  like  that."  He  was 
silent.  "  I  think,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  General,"  he  said 
next,  "  I'll  see  my  sergeant  and  give  some  orders." 

"  Certainly.  And,  Captain  Glynn,  I  took  the  liberty 
of  giving  a  few  directions  myself.  We'll  take  an  A 
tent,  you  know,  for  you  and  me.  I  see  Keyser  is  ser 
geant  in  F  troop.  Glad  we  have  a  non-commissioned 
officer  so  competent.  Haven't  seen  him  since  '64,  at 
Winchester.  Why,  it's  cleared  off,  I  declare !" 


94  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

It  had,  and  the  General  looked  out  of  the  open  door 
as  Captain  Glynn,  departing,  was  pulling  at  his  cigar. 
"  How  beautiful  the  planets  are  !"  exclaimed  Crook. 
"Look  at  Jupiter — there,  just  to  the  left  of  that  little 
cottonwood-tree.  Haven't  you  often  noticed  how  much 
finer  the  stars  shine  in  this  atmosphere  than  in  the  East? 
Oh,  captain  !  I  forgot  to  speak  of  extra  horseshoes.  I 
want  some  brought  along." 

"  I'll  attend  to  it,  General." 

"They  shouldn't  be  too  large.  These  California 
fourteen-and-a-half  horses  have  smallish  hoofs." 

"  I'll  see  the  blacksmith  myself,  General." 

"Thank  you.  Good-night.  And  just  order  fresh 
stuffing  put  into  the  aparejos.  I  noticed  three  that 
had  got  lumpy."  And  the  General  shut  the  door  and 
went  to  wipe  out  the  immaculate  barrels  of  his  shot 
gun  ;  for  besides  Indians  there  were  grouse  among  the 
hills  where  he  expected  to  go. 

Captain  Glynn,  arriving  at  his  own  door,  stuck  his 
glowing  cigar  against  the  thermometer  hanging  out 
side :  twenty-three  below  zero.  "Oh  Lord!"  said  the 
captain,  briefly.  He  went  in  and  told  his  striker  to 
get  Sergeant  Keyser.  Then  he  sat  down  and  waited. 
"'Look  at  Jupiter!'"  he  muttered,  angrily.  "What 
an  awful  old  man  !" 

It  was  rather  awful.  The  captain  had  not  supposed 
generals  in  the  first  two  hours  of  their  arrival  at  a 
post  to  be  in  the  habit  of  finding  out  more  about  your 
aparejos  than  you  knew  yourself.  But  old  the  General 
was  not.  At  the  present  day  many  captains  are  older 
than  Crook  was  then. 

Down  at  the  barracks  there  was  the  same  curiosity 
about  what  the  "  Old  Man  "  was  going  to  do  as  existed 
at  the  post  commander's  during  the  early  part  of  sup- 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  95 

per.  It  pleased  the  cavalry  to  tell  the  infantry  that 
the  Old  Man  proposed  to  take  the  infantry  to  the  Co 
lumbia  River  next  week;  and  the  infantry  replied  to 
the  cavalry  that  they  were  quite  right  as  to  the  river 
and  the  week,  and  it  was  hard  luck  the  General  needed 
only  mounted  troops  on  this  trip.  Others  had  heard 
he  had  come  to  superintend  the  building  of  a  line  of 
telegraph  to  Klamath,  which  would  be  a  good  winter's 
job  for  somebody  ;  but  nobody  supposed  that  anything 
would  happen  yet  awhile. 

And  then  a  man  came  in  and  told  them  the  General 
had  sent  his  boots  to  the  saddler  to  have  nails  ham 
mered  in  the  soles. 

"That  eer  means  business,"  said  Jack  Long,  "  'n'  I 
guess  I'll  nail  up  mee  own  cowhides." 

"Jock,"  said  Specimen  Jones  to  Cumnor,  "you  and 
me  'ain't  got  any  soles  to  ourn  because  they're  con 
tract  boots,  y'u  see.  I'll  nail  up  yer  feet  if  y'u  say  so. 
It's  liable  to  be  slippery." 

Cumnor  did  not  take  in  the  situation  at  once. 
"What's  your  hurry?"  he  inquired  of  Jack  Long. 
Therefore  it  was  explained  to  him  that  when  General 
Crook  ordered  his  boots  fixed  you  might  expect  to  be 
on  the  road  shortly.  Cumnor  swore  some  resigned, 
unemphatic  oaths,  fondly  supposing  that  "shortly" 
meant  some  time  or  other ;  but  hearing  in  the  next  five 
minutes  the  definite  fact  that  F  troop  would  get  up  at 
two,  he  made  use  of  profound  and  thorough  language, 
and  compared  the  soldier  with  the  slave. 

"  Why,  y'u  talk  almost  like  a  man,  Jock,"  said  Speci 
men  Jones.  "  Blamed  if  y'u  don't  sound  pretty  near 
growed  up." 

Cumnor  invited  Jones  to  mind  his  business. 

"  Yer  muss-tache   has  come  since   Arizona,"  con- 


96  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

tinued  Jones,  admiringly,  "  and  yer  blue  eye  is  bad- 
lookin' — worse  than  when  we  shot  at  yer  heels  and  y'u 
danced  fer  us." 

"  I  thought  they  were  going  to  give  as  a  rest,"  mum 
bled  the  youth,  flushing.  "  I  thought  we'd  be  let  stay 
here  a  spell." 

"  I  thought  so  too,  Jock.  A  little  monotony  would 
be  fine  variety.  But  a  man  must  take  his  medicine, 
y'u  know,  and  not  squeal."  Jones  had  lowered  his 
voice,  and  now  spoke  without  satire  to  the  boy  whom 
he  had  in  a  curious  manner  taken  under  his  pro 
tection. 

"  Look  at  what  they  give  us  for  a  blanket  to  sleep 
in,"  said  Cumnor.  "  A  fellow  can  see  to  read  the 
newspaper  through  it." 

"  Look  at  my  coat,  Cumnor."  It  was  Sergeant  Key- 
ser  showing  the  article  furnished  the  soldier  by  the 
government.  "You  can  spit  through  that."  He  had 
overheard  their  talk,  and  stepped  up  to  show  that  all 
were  in  the  same  box.  At  his  presence  reticence  fell 
upon  the  privates,  and  Cumnor  hauled  his  black  felt 
hat  down  tight  in  embarrassment,  which  strain  split  it 
open  half-way  round  his  head.  It  was  another  sample 
of  regulation  clothing,  and  they  laughed  at  it. 

"  We  all  know  the  way  it  is,"  said  Keyser,  "  and  I've 
seen  it  a  big  sight  worse.  Cumnor,  I've  a  cap  I  guess 
will  keep  your  scalp  warm  till  we  get  back." 

And  so  at  two  in  the  morning  F  troop  left  the  bunks 
it  had  expected  to  sleep  in  for  some  undisturbed 
weeks,  and  by  four  o'clock  had  eaten  its  well-known 
breakfast  of  bacon  and  bad  coffee,  and  was  following 
the  "  awful  old  man "  down  the  north  bank  of  the 
Boise',  leaving  the  silent,  dead,  wooden  town  of  shanties 
on  the  other  side  half  a  mile  behind  in  the  darkness. 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  97 

The  mountains  south  stood  distant,  ignoble,  plain- 
featured  heights,  looming  a  clean-cut  black  beneath 
the  piercing  stars  and  the  slice  of  hard,  sharp-edged 
moon,  and  the  surrounding  plains  of  sage  and  dry- 
cracking  weed  slanted  up  and  down  to  nowhere  and 
nothing  with  desolate  perpetuity.  The  snowfall  was 
light  and  dry  as  sand,  and  the  bare  ground  jutted 
through  it  at  every  sudden  lump  or  knoll.  The  col 
umn  moved  through  the  dead  polar  silence,  scarcely 
breaking  it.  Now  and  then  a  hoof  rang  on  a  stone, 
here  and  there  a  bridle  or  a  sabre  clinked  lightly ;  but 
it  was  too  cold  and  early  for  talking,  and  the  only 
steady  sound  was  the  flat,  can-like  tankle  of  the  square 
bell  that  hung  on  the  neck  of  the  long-eared  leader  of 
the  pack-train.  They  passed  the  Dailey  ranch,  and 
saw  the  kittens  and  the  liniment-bottle,  but  could  get 
no  information  as  to  what  way  E-egante  had  gone. 
The  General  did  not  care  for  that,  however ;  he  had 
devised  his  own  route  for  the  present,  after  a  talk  with 
the  Indian  guides.  At  the  second  dismounting  dur 
ing  march  he  had  word  sent  back  to  the  pack-train 
not  to  fall  behind,  and  the  bell  was  to  be  taken  off  if 
the  rest  of  the  mules  would  follow  without  the  sound 
of  its  shallow  music.  No  wind  moved  the  weeds  or 
shook  the  stiff  grass,  and  the  rising  sun  glittered  pink 
on  the  patched  and  motley-shirted  men  as  they  blew 
on  their  red  hands  or  beat  them  against  their  legs. 
Some  were  lucky  enough  to  have  woollen  or  fur  gloves, 
but  many  had  only  the  white  cotton  affairs  furnished 
by  the  government.  Sarah  the  squaw  laughed  at 
them:  the  interpreter  was  warm  as  she  rode  in  her 
bright  green  shawl.  While  the  dismounted  troopers 
stretched  their  limbs  during  the  halt,  she  remained 
on  her  pony  talking  to  one  and  another. 

7 


98  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  Gray  Fox  heap  savvy,"  said  she  to  Mr.  Long. 
"  He  heap  get  up  in  the  mornin'." 

"  Thet's  what  he  does,  Sarah." 

"  Yas.     No  give  soldier  hy-as  Sunday  "  (a  holiday). 

"No,  no,"  assented  Mr.  Long.  "Gray  Fox  go  t^h- 
te'h"  (trot). 

"  Maybe  he  catch  E-egante,  maybe  put  him  in  skoo- 
kum-house  [prison]  ?"  suggested  Sarah. 

"Oh  no!  Lor'!  E-egante  good  Injun.  White 
Father  he  feed  him.  Give  him  heap  clothes,"  said 
Mr.  Long. 

"A — h!"  drawled  Sarah,  dubiously,  and  rode  by 
herself. 

"  You'll  need  watchin',"  muttered  Jack  Long. 

The  trumpet  sounded,  the  troopers  swung  into  their 
saddles,  and  the  line  of  march  was  taken  up  as  before, 
Crook  at  the  head  of  the  column,  his  ragged  fur  collar 
turned  up,  his  corduroys  stuffed  inside  a  wrinkled  pair 
of  boots,  the  shot-gun  balanced  across  his  saddle,  and 
nothing  to  reveal  that  he  was  any  one  in  particular,  un 
less  you  saw  his  face.  As  the  morning  grew  bright, 
and  empty,  silent  Idaho  glistened  under  the  clear  blue, 
the  General  talked  a  little  to  Captain  Glynn. 

"  E-egante  will  have  crossed  Snake  River,  I  think," 
said  he.  "  I  shall  try  to  do  that  to-day  ;  but  we  must 
be  easy  on  those  horses  of  yours.  We  ought  to  be 
able  to  find  these  Indians  in  three  days." 

"  If  I  were  a  lusty  young  chief,"  said  Glynn,  "  I 
should  think  it  pretty  tough  to  be  put  on  a  reservation 
for  dipping  a  couple  of  kittens  in  the  molasses." 

"So  should  I,  captain.  But  next  time  he  might 
dip  Mrs.  Dailey.  And  I'm  not  sure  he  didn't  have  a 
hand  in  more  serious  work.  Didn't  you  run  across 
his  tracks  anywhere  this  summer  ?" 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF 


99 


"  No,  sir.     He  was  over  on  the  Des  Chutes." 

"  Did  you  hear  what  he  was  doing  ?" 

"  Having  rows  about  fish  and  game  with  those  Warm 
Spring  Indians  on  the  west  side  of  the  Des  Chutes." 

"  They're  always  poaching  on  each  other.  There's 
bad  blood  between  E-egante  and  Uma-Pine." 

"  Uma-Pine's  friendly,  sir,  isn't  he  ?" 

"Well,  that's  a  question,"  said  Crook.  "  But  there's 
no  question  about  this  E-egante  and  his  Pah-Utes. 
We've  got  to  catch  him.  I'm  sorry  for  him.  He 
doesn't  see  why  he  shouldn't  hunt  anywhere  as  his 
fathers  did.  I  shouldn't  see  that  either." 

"  How  strong  is  this  band  reported,  sir  ?" 

"  I've  heard  nothing  I  can  set  reliance  upon,"  said 
Crook,  instinctively  levelling  his  shot-gun  at  a  big  bird 
that  rose ;  then  he  replaced  the  piece  across  his  sad 
dle  and  was  silent.  Now  Captain  Glynn  had  heard 
there  were  three  hundred  Indians  with  E-egante,  which 
was  a  larger  number  than  he  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  attacking  with  forty  men.  But  he  felt  discreet 
about  volunteering  any  information  to  the  General  after 
last  night's  exhibition  of  what  the  General  knew. 
Crook  partly  answered  what  was  in  Glynn's  mind. 
"This  is  the  only  available  force  I  have,"  said  he. 
"  We  must  do  what  we  can  with  it.  You've  found  out 
by  this  time,  captain,  that  rapidity  in  following  Indians 
up  often  works  well.  They  have  made  up  their  minds 
— that  is,  if  I  know  them — that  we're  going  to  loaf  in 
side  Boise  Barracks  until  the  hard  weather  lets  up.  " 

Captain  Glynn  had  thought  so  too,  but  he  did  not 
mention  this,  and  the  General  continued.  "  I  find 
that  most  people  entertained  this  notion,"  he  said, 
"  and  I'm  glad  they  did,  for  it  will  help  my  first  opera 
tions  very  materially." 


IOO  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

The  captain  agreed  that  there  was  nothing  like  a 
false  impression  for  assisting  the  efficacy  of  military 
movements,  and  presently  the  General  asked  him  to 
command  a  halt.  It  was  high  noon,  and  the  sun 
gleamed  on  the  brass  trumpet  as  the  long  note  blew. 
Again  the  musical  strain  sounded  on  the  cold,  bright 
stillness,  and  the  double  line  of  twenty  legs  swung  in  a 
simultaneous  arc  over  the  horses'  backs  as  the  men 
dismounted. 

"  We'll  noon  here,"  said  the  General ;  and  while  the 
cook  broke  the  ice  on  Boise  River  to  fill  his  kettles, 
Crook  went  back  to  the  mules  to  see  how  the  sore 
backs  were  standing  the  march.  "  How  d'ye  do,  Jack 
Long  ?"  said  he.  u  Your  stock  is  travelling  pretty 
well,  I  see.  They're  loaded  with  thirty  days'  rations, 
but  I  trust  we're  not  going  to  need  it  all." 

"Mwell,  General,  I  don't  specially  kyeer  meself 
'bout  eatin'  the  hull  outfit."  Mr.  Long  showed  his  re 
spect  for  the  General  by  never  swearing  in  his  pres 
ence. 

"  I  see  you  haven't  forgotten  how  to  pack,"  Crook 
said  to  him.  "  Can  we  make  Snake  River  to-day, 
Jack  ?" 

"  That  '11  be  forty  miles,  General.  The  days  are 
pretty  short." 

"What  are  you  feeding  to  the  animals  ?"  Crook  in 
quired. 

"Why,  General,  you  know  jest  's  well  's  me,"  said 
Jack,  grinning. 

"  I  suppose  I  do  if  you  say  so,  Jack.  Ten  pounds 
first  ten  days,  five  pounds  next  ten,  and  you're  out  of 
grain  for  the  next  ten.  Is  that  the  way  still  ?" 

"  Thet's  the  way,  General,  on  these  yere  thirty-day 
affairs.1' 


101 

Through  all  this  small-talk  Crook  had  been  inspect 
ing  the  mules  and  the  horses  on  picket-line,  and  si 
lently  forming  his  conclusion.  He  now  returned  to 
Captain  Glynn  and  shared  his  mess-box. 

They  made  Snake  River.  Crook  knew  better  than 
Long  what  the  animals  could  do.  And  next  day  they 
crossed,  again  by  starlight,  turned  for  a  little  way  up 
the  Owyhee,  decided  that  E-egante  had  not  gone  that 
road,  trailed  up  the  bluffs  and  ledges  from  the  Snake 
Valley  on  to  the  barren  height  of  land,  and  made  for 
the  Malheur  River,  rinding  the  eight  hoofs  of  two  deer 
lying  in  a  melted  place  where  a  fire  had  been.  Mr. 
Dailey  had  insisted  that  at  least  fifty  Indians  had 
drunk  his  liniment  and  trifled  with  his  cats.  Indeed, 
at  times  during  his  talk  with  General  Crook  the  old 
gentleman  had  been  sure  there  were  a  hundred.  If 
this  were  their  trail  which  the  command  had  now 
struck,  there  may  possibly  have  been  eight.  It  was 
quite  evident  that  the  chief  had  not  taken  any  three 
hundred  warriors  upon  that  visit,  if  he  had  that  num 
ber  anywhere.  So  the  column  went  up  the  Malheur 
main  stream  through  the  sage-brush  and  the  gray 
weather  (it  was  still  cold,  but  no  sun  any  more  these 
last  two  days),  and,  coming  to  the  North  Fork,  turned 
up  towards  a  spur  of  the  mountains  and  Castle  Rock. 
The  water  ran  smooth  black  between  its  edging  of  ice, 
thick,  white,  and  crusted  like  slabs  of  cocoanut  candy, 
and  there  in  the  hollow  of  a  bend  they  came  suddenly 
upon  what  they  sought. 

Stems  of  smoke,  faint  and  blue,  spindled  up  from  a 
blurred  acre  of  willow  thicket,  dense,  tall  as  two  men, 
a  netted  brown  and  yellow  mesh  of  twigs  and  stiff  win 
try  rods.  Out  from  the  level  of  their  close,  nature- 
woven  tops  rose  at  distances  the  straight,  slight  blue 


102  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

smoke-lines,  marking  each  the  position  of  some  invisi 
ble  lodge.  The  whole  acre  was  a  bottom  ploughed  at 
some  former  time  by  a  wash-out,  and  the  troops  looked 
down  on  it  from  the  edge  of  the  higher  ground,  silent 
in  the  quiet,  gray  afternoon,  the  empty  sage-brush  ter 
ritory  stretching  a  short  way  to  fluted  hills  that  were 
white  below  and  blackened  with  pines  above. 

The  General,  taking  a  rough  chance  as  he  often  did, 
sent  ground  scouts  forward  and  ordered  a  charge  in 
stantly,  to  catch  the  savages  unready;  and  the  stiff 
rods  snapped  and  tangled  between  the  beating  hoofs. 
The  horses  plunged  at  the  elastic  edges  of  this  excel 
lent  fortress,  sometimes  half  lifted  as  a  bent  willow 
levered  up  against  their  bellies,  and  the  forward-tilting 
men  fended  their  faces  from  the  whipping  twigs.  They 
could  not  wedge  a  man's  length  into  that  pliant  lab 
yrinth,  and  the  General  called  them  out.  They  rallied 
among  the  sage-brush  above,  Crook's  cheeks  and  many 
others  painted  with  purple  lines  of  blood,  hardened 
already  and  cracking  like  enamel.  The  baffled  troop 
ers  glared  at  the  thicket.  Not  a  sign  nor  a  sound 
came  from  in  there.  The  willows,  with  the  gentle  tints 
of  winter  veiling  their  misty  twigs,  looked  serene  and 
even  innocent,  fitted  to  harbor  birds — not  birds  of  prey 
— and  the  quiet  smoke  threaded  upwards  through  the 
air.  Of  course  the  liniment-drinkers  must  have  heard 
the  noise. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  they're  doing  ?"  inquired 
Glynn. 

"  Looking  at  us,"  said  Crook. 

"  I  wish  we  could  return  the  compliment,"  said  the 
captain. 

Crook  pointed.  Had  any  wind  been  blowing,  what 
the  General  saw  would  have  been  less  worth  watching. 


THE   GENERAL  S    BLUFF  103 

Two  willow  branches  shook,  making  a  vanishing  ripple 
on  the  smooth  surface  of  the  tree-tops.  The  pack-train 
was  just  coming  in  sight  over  the  rise,  and  Crook  im 
mediately  sent  an  orderly  with  some  message.  More 
willow  branches  shivered  an  instant  and  were  still ; 
then,  while  the  General  and  the  captain  sat  on  their 
horses  and  watched,  the  thicket  gave  up  its  secret  to 
them ;  for,  as  little  light  gusts  coming  abreast  over  a 
lake  travel  and  touch  the  water,  so  in  different  spots 
the  level  maze  of  twigs  was  stirred ;  and  if  the  eye 
fastened  upon  any  one  of  these  it  could  have  been 
seen  to  come  out  from  the  centre  towards  the  edge, 
successive  twigs  moving,  as  the  tops  of  long  grass 
tremble  and  mark  the  progress  of  a  snake.  During  a 
short  while  this  increased  greatly,  the  whole  thicket 
moving  with  innumerable  tracks.  Then  everything 
ceased,  with  the  blue  wands  of  smoke  rising  always 
into  the  quiet  afternoon. 

"  Can  you  see  'em  ?"  said  Glynn. 

"  Not  a  bit.  Did  you  happen  to  hear  any  one  give 
an  estimate  of  this  band  ?" 

Glynn  mentioned  his  tale  of  the  three  hundred. 

It  was  not  new  to  the  General,  but  he  remarked  now 
that  it  must  be  pretty  nearly  correct ;  and  his  eye 
turned  a  moment  upon  his  forty  troopers  waiting  there, 
grim  and  humorous  ;  for  they  knew  that  the  thicket 
was  looking  at  them,  and  it  amused  their  American 
minds  to  wonder  what  the  Old  Man  was  going  to  do 
about  it. 

"  It's  his  bet,  and  he  holds  poor  cards,"  murmured 
Specimen  Jones ;  and  the  neighbors  grinned. 

And  here  the  Old  Man  continued  the  play  that  he 
had  begun  when  he  sent  the  orderly  to  the  pack-train. 
That  part  of  the  command  had  halted  in  consequence, 


I04  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

disposed  itself  in  an  easy-going  way,  half  in,  half  out 
of  sight  on  the  ridge,  and  men  and  mules  looked  en 
tirely  careless.  Glynn  wondered ;  but  no  one  ever 
asked  the  General  questions,  in  spite  of  his  amiable 
voice  and  countenance.  He  now  sent  for  Sarah  the 
squaw. 

"You  tell  E-egante,"  he  said,  "that  I  am  not  going 
to  fight  with  his  people  unless  his  people  make  me.  I 
am  not  going  to  do  them  any  harm,  and  I  wish  to  be 
their  friend.  The  White  Father  has  sent  me.  Ask 
E-egante  if  he  has  heard  of  Gray  Fox.  Tell  him  Gray 
Fox  wishes  E-egante  and  all  his  people  to  be  ready  to 
go  with  him  to-morrow  at  nine  o'clock." 

And  Sarah,  standing  on  the  frozen  bank,  pulled  her 
green  shawl  closer,  and  shouted  her  message  faithfully 
to  the  willows.  Nothing  moved  or  showed,  and  Crook, 
riding  up  to  the  squaw,  held  his  hand  up  as  a  further 
sign  to  the  flag  of  peace  that  had  been  raised  already. 
"Say  that  I  am  Gray  Fox,"  said  he. 

On  that  there  was  a  moving  in  the  bushes  farther 
along,  and,  going  opposite  that  place  with  the  squaw, 
Crook  and  Glynn  saw  a  narrow  entrance  across  which 
some  few  branches  reached  that  were  now  spread  aside 
for  three  figures  to  stand  there. 

"  E-egante  !"  said  Sarah,  eagerly.  "  See  him  big 
man  !"  she  added  to  Crook,  pointing.  A  tall  and 
splendid  buck,  gleaming  with  colors,  and  rich  with 
fringe  and  buckskin,  watched  them.  He  seemed  to 
look  at  Sarah,  too.  She,  being  ordered,  repeated  what 
she  had  said  ;  but  the  chief  did  not  answer. 

"  He  is  counting  our  strength,"  said  Glynn. 

"  He's  done  that  some  time  ago,"  said  Crook.  "  Tell 
E-egante,"  he  continued  to  the  squaw,  "that  I  will 
not  send  for  more  soldiers  than  he  sees  here.  I  do 


THE   GENERAI/S  BLUFF  105 

not  wish  anything  but  peace  unless  he  wishes  other 
wise." 

Sarah's  musical  voice  sounded  again  from  the  bank, 
and  E-egante  watched  her  intently  till  she  was  finished. 
This  time  he  replied  at  some  length.  He  and  his  peo 
ple  had  not  done  any  harm.  He  had  heard  of  Gray 
Fox  often.  All  his  people  knew  Gray  Fox  was  a  good 
man  and  would  not  make  trouble.  There  were  some 
flies  that  stung  a  man  sitting  in  his  house,  when  he 
had  not  hurt  them.  Gray  Fox  would  not  hurt  any  one 
till  their  hand  was  raised  against  him  first.  E-egante 
and  his  people  had  wondered  why  the  horses  made  so 
much  noise  just  now.  He  and  his  people  would  come 
to-morrow  with  Gray  Fox. 

And  then  he  went  inside  the  thicket  again,  and 
the  willows  looked  as  innocent  as  ever.  Crook  and 
the  captain  rode  away. 

"  My  speech  was  just  a  little  weak  coming  on  top 
of  a  charge  of  cavalry,"  the  General  admitted.  "  And 
that  fellow  put  his  finger  right  on  the  place.  I'll  give 
you  my  notion,  captain.  If  I  had  said  we  had  more 
soldiers  behind  the  hill,  like  as  not  this  squaw  of  ours 
would  have  told  him  1  lied ;  she's  an  uncertain  quantity, 
I  find.  But  I  told  him  the  exact  truth — that  I  had  no 
more — and  he  won't  believe  it,  and  that's  what  I  want." 

So  Glynn  understood.  The  pack-train  had  been 
halted  in  a  purposely  exposed  position,  which  would 
look  to  the  Indians  as  if  another  force  was  certainly 
behind  it,  and  every  move  was  now  made  to  give  an 
impression  that  the  forty  were  only  the  advance  of  a 
large  command.  Crook  pitched  his  A  tent  close  to 
the  red  men's  village,  and  the  troops  went  into  camp 
regardlessly  near.  The  horses  were  turned  out  to 
graze  ostentatiously  unprotected,  so  that  the  people 


IO6  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

in  the  thicket  should  have  every  chance  to  notice  how 
secure  the  white  men  felt.  The  mules  pastured  com 
fortably  over  the  shallow  snow  that  crushed  as  they 
wandered  among  the  sage-bush,  and  the  square  bell 
hung  once  more  from  the  neck  of  the  leader  and  tan- 
kled  upon  the  hill.  The  shelter-tents  littered  the  flat 
above  the  wash-out,  and  besides  the  cook-fire  others 
were  built  irregularly  far  down  the  Malheur  North 
Fork,  shedding  an  extended  glimmer  of  deceit.  It 
might  have  been  the  camp  of  many  hundred.  A  lit 
tle  blaze  shone  comfortably  on  the  canvas  of  Crook's 
tent,  and  Sergeant  Keyser,  being  in  charge  of  camp, 
had  adopted  the  troop  cook-fire  for  his  camp  guard 
after  the  cooks  had  finished  their  work.  The  willow 
thicket  below  grew  black  and  mysterious,  and  quiet 
fell  on  the  white  camp.  By  eight  the  troopers  had 
gone  to  bed.  Night  had  come  pretty  cold,  and  a  lit 
tle  occasional  breeze,  that  passed  like  a  chill  hand 
laid  a  moment  on  the  face,  and  went  down  into  the 
willows.  Now  and  again  the  water  running  through 
the  ice  would  lap  and  gurgle  at  some  air-hole.  Ser 
geant  Keyser  sat  by  his  fire  and  listened  to  the  lone 
ly  bell  sounding  from  the  dark.  He  wished  the  men 
would  feel  more  at  home  with  him.  With  Jack  Long, 
satirical,  old,  and  experienced,  they  were  perfectly 
familiar,  because  he  was  a  civilian ;  but  to  Keyser, 
because  he  had  been  in  command  of  a  battalion,  they 
held  the  attitude  of  school-boys  to  a  master — the  in 
stinctive  feeling  of  all  privates  towards  all  officers. 
Jones  and  Cumnor  were  members  of  his  camp  guard. 
Being  just  now  off  post,  they  stood  at  the  fire,  but 
away  from  him. 

"  How  do  you  like  this  compared  with  barracks  ?" 
the  sergeant  asked,  conversationally. 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  107 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  Jones. 

"  Did  you  think  it  was  all  right  that  first  morning? 
I  didn't  enjoy  it  much  myself.  Sit  down  and  get 
warm,  won't  you  ?" 

The  men  came  and  stood  awkwardly.  "I  'ain't 
never  found  any  excitement  in  getting  up  early,"  said 
Jones,  and  was  silent.  A  burning  log  shifted,  and 
the  bell  sounded  in  a  new  place  as  the  leader  past 
ured  along.  Jones  kicked  the  log  into  better  posi 
tion.  "  But  this  affair's  gettin'  inter-esting,"  he  added. 

"  Don't  you  smoke  ?"  Keyser  inquired  of  Cumnor, 
and  tossed  him  his  tobacco  -  pouch.  Presently  they 
were  seated,  and  the  conversation  going  better.  Ari 
zona  was  compared  with  Idaho.  Everybody  had 
gone  to  bed. 

"  Arizona's  the  most  outrageous  outrage  in  the 
United  States,"  declared  Jones. 

"Why  did  you  stay  there  six  years,  then?"  said 
Cumnor. 

"  Guess  I'd  been  there  yet  but  for  you  comin'  along 
and  us  both  enlistin'  that  crazy  way.  Idaho's  better. 
Only,"  said  Jones,  thoughtfully,  "  coming  to  an  ice 
box  from  a  hundred  thousand  in  the  shade,  it's  a 
wonder  a  man  don't  just  split  like  a  glass  chimbly." 

The  willows  crackled,  and  all  laid  hands  on  their 
pistols. 

"How!  how!"  said  a  strange,  propitiating  voice. 

It  was  a  man  on  a  horse,  and  directly  they  recog 
nized  E-egante  himself.  They  would  have  raised  an 
alarm,  but  he  was  alone,  and  plainly  not  running 
away.  Nor  had  he  weapons.  He  rode  into  the  fire 
light,  and  "  How  !  how  !"  he  repeated,  anxiously.  He 
looked  and  nodded  at  the  three,  who  remained  seated. 

"  Good-evening,"  said  the  sergeant. 


108  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

"  Christmas  is  coming,"  said  Jones,  amicably. 

"  How !  how !"  said  E-egante.  It  was  all  the  Eng 
lish  he  had.  He  sat  on  his  horse,  looking  at  the 
men,  the  camp,  the  cook-fire,  the  A  tent,  and  beyond 
into  the  surrounding  silence.  He  started  when  the 
bell  suddenly  jangled  near  by.  The  wandering  mule 
had  only  shifted  in  towards  the  camp  and  shaken  his 
head ;  but  the  Indian's  nerves  were  evidently  on  the 
sharpest  strain. 

"  Sit  down !"  said  Keyser,  making  signs,  and  at 
these  E-egante  started  suspiciously. 

"  Warm  here !"  Jones  called  to  him,  and  Cumnor 
showed  his  pipe. 

The  chief  edged  a  thought  closer.  His  intent,  brill 
iant  eyes  seemed  almost  to  listen  as  well  as  look,  and 
though  he  sat  his  horse  with  heedless  grace  and  se 
curity,  there  was  never  a  figure  more  ready  for  vanish 
ing  upon  the  instant.  He  came  a  little  nearer  still, 
alert  and  pretty  as  an  inquisitive  buck  antelope,  watch 
ing  not  the  three  soldiers  only,  but  everything  else  at 
once.  He  eyed  their  signs  to  dismount,  looked  at 
their  faces,  considered,  and  with  the  greatest  slowness 
got  off  and  came  stalking  to  the  fire.  He  was  a  fine 
tall  man,  and  they  smiled  and  nodded  at  him,  admiring 
his  clean  blankets  and  the  magnificence  of  his  buck 
skin  shirt  and  leggings. 

"  He's  a  jim-dandy,"  said  Cumnor. 

"  You  bet  the  girls  think  so,"  said  Jones.  "  He  gets 
his  pick.  For  you're  a  fighter  too,  ain't  y'u?"  he 
added,  to  E-egante. 

"  How !  how  !"  said  that  personage,  looking  at  them 
with  grave  affability  from  the  other  side  of  the  fire. 
Reassured  presently,  he  accepted  the  sergeant's  pipe ; 
but  even  while  he  smoked  and  responded  to  the  gest- 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  109 

ures,  the  alertness  never  left  his  eye,  and  his  tall  body 
gave  no  sense  of  being  relaxed.  And  so  they  all  looked 
at  each  other  across  the  waning  embers,  while  the  old 
pack-mule  moved  about  at  the  edge  of  camp,  crushing 
the  crusted  snow  and  pasturing  along.  After  a  time 
E-egante  gave  a  nod,  handed  the  pipe  back,  and  went 
into  his  thicket  as  he  had  come.  His  visit  had  told 
him  nothing ;  perhaps  he  had  never  supposed  it  would, 
and  came  from  curiosity.  One  person  had  watched 
this  interview.  Sarah  the  squaw  sat  out  in  the  night, 
afraid  for  her  ancient  hero ;  but  she  was  content  to 
look  upon  his  beauty,  and  go  to  sleep  after  he  had 
taken  himself  from  her  sight.  The  soldiers  went  to 
bed,  and  Keyser  lay  wondering  for  a  while  before  he 
took  his  nap  between  his  surveillances.  The  little 
breeze  still  passed  at  times,  the  running  water  and  the 
ice  made  sounds  together,  and  he  could  hear  the  wan 
dering  bell,  now  distant  on  the  hill,  irregularly  punct 
uating  the  flight  of  the  dark  hours. 

By  nine  next  day  there  was  the  thicket  sure  enough, 
and  the  forty  waiting  for  the  three  hundred  to  come 
out  of  it.  Then  it  became  ten  o'clock,  but  that  was 
the  only  difference,  unless  perhaps  Sarah  the  squaw 
grew  more  restless.  The  troopers  stood  ready  to  be 
told  what  to  do,  joking  together  in  low  voices  now  and 
then  ;  Crook  sat  watching  Glynn  smoke  ;  and  through 
these  stationary  people  walked  Sarah,  looking  wistfully 
at  the  thicket,  and  then  at  the  faces  of  the  adopted 
race  she  served.  She  hardly  knew  what  was  in  her 
own  mind.  Then  it  became  eleven,  and  Crook  was 
tired  of  it,  and  made  the  capping  move  in  his  bluff. 
He  gave  the  orders  himself. 

"  Sergeant." 

Keyser  saluted. 


110  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  You  will  detail  eight  men  to  go  with  you  into  the 
Indian  camp.  The  men  are  to  carry  pistols  under 
their  overcoats,  and  no  other  arms.  You  will  tell  the 
Indians  to  come  out.  Repeat  what  I  said  to  them  last 
night.  Make  it  short.  I'll  give  them  ten  minutes.  If 
they  don't  come  by  then  a  shot  will  be  fired  out 
here.  At  that  signal  you  will  remain  in  there  and 
blaze  away  at  the  Indians." 

So  Keyser  picked  his  men. 

The  thirty-one  remaining  troopers  stopped  joking, 
and  watched  the  squad  of  nine  and  the  interpreter  file 
down  the  bank  to  visit  the  three  hundred.  The  dingy 
overcoats  and  the  bright  green  shawl  passed  into  the 
thicket,  and  the  General  looked  at  his  watch.  Along 
the  bend  of  the  stream  clear  noises  tinkled  from  the 
water  and  the  ice. 

"  What  are  they  up  to  ?"  whispered  a  teamster  to 
Jack  Long.  Long's  face  was  stern,  but  the  teamster's 
was  chalky  and  tight  drawn.  "  Say,"  he  repeated,  in 
sistently,  "  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?" 

"  We're  to  wait,"  Long  whispered  back,  "  till  nothin' 
happens,  and  then  th'  Ole  Man  '11  fire  a  gun  and  sig 
nal  them  boys  to  shoot  in  there." 

"  Oh,  it's  to  be  waitin'  ?"  said  the  teamster.  He 
fastened  his  eyes  on  the  thicket,  and  his  lips  grew 
bloodless.  The  running  river  sounded  more  plainly. 

« itj"  cried  the  man,  desperately,  "let's 

start  the  fun,  then."  He  whipped  out  his  pistol,  and 
Jack  Long  had  just  time  to  seize  him  and  stop  a  false 
signal. 

"  Why,  you  must  be  skeered,"  said  Long.  "  I've  a 
mind  to  beat  yer  skull  in." 

"  Waitin's  so  awful,"  whimpered  the  man.  "  I  wisht 
I  was  along  with  them  in  there." 


Ill 

Jack  gave  him  back  his  revolver.  "There,"  said 
he;  "ye're  not  skeered,  I  see.  Waitin'  ain't  nice." 

The  eight  troopers  with  Keyser  were  not  having 
anything  like  so  distasteful  a  time.  "Jock,"  said 
Specimen  Jones  to  Cumnor,  as  they  followed  the  ser 
geant  into  the  willows  and  began  to  come  among  the 
lodges  and  striped  savages,  "you  and  me  has  saw 
Injuns  before,  Jock." 

"  And  we'll  do  it  again,"  said  Cumnor. 

Keyser  looked  at  his  watch :  Four  minutes  gone. 
"  Jones,"  said  he,  "  you  patrol  this  path  to  the  right  so 
you  can  cover  that  gang  there.  There  must  be  four  or 
five  lodges  down  that  way.  Cumnor,  see  that  dugout 
with  side-thatch  and  roofing  of  tule  ?  You  attend  to 
that  family.  It's  a  big  one — all  brothers."  Thus  the 
sergeant  disposed  his  men  quietly  and  quick  through 
the  labyrinth  till  they  became  invisible  to  each  other ; 
and  all  the  while  flights  of  Indians  passed,  half  seen, 
among  the  tangle,  fleeting  visions  of  yellow  and  red 
through  the  quiet-colored  twigs.  Others  squatted 
stoically,  doing  nothing.  A  few  had  guns,  but  most 
used  arrows,  and  had  these  stacked  beside  them  where 
they  squatted.  Keyser  singled  out  a  somewhat  cen 
tral  figure — Fur  Cap  was  his  name — as  his  starting- 
point  if  the  signal  should  sound.  It  must  sound  now 
in  a  second  or  two.  He  would  not  look  at  his  watch 
lest  it  should  hamper  him.  Fur  Cap  sat  by  a  pile  of 
arrows,  with  a  gun  across  his  knees  besides.  Keyser 
calculated  that  by  standing  close  to  him  as  he  was, 
his  boot  would  catch  the  Indian  under  the  chin  just 
right,  and  save  one  cartridge.  Not  a  red  man  spoke, 
but  Sarah  the  squaw  dutifully  speechified  in  a  central 
place  where  paths  met  near  Keyser  and  Fur  Cap. 
Her  voice  was  persuasive  and  warning.  Some  of  the 


112  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

savages  moved  up  and  felt  Keyser's  overcoat.  They 
fingered  the  hard  bulge  of  the  pistol  underneath,  and 
passed  on,  laughing,  to  the  next  soldier's  coat,  while 
Sarah  did  not  cease  to  harangue.  The  tall,  stately  man 
of  last  night  appeared.  His  full  dark  eye  met  Sarah's, 
and  the  woman's  voice  faltered  and  her  breathing  grew 
troubled  as  she  gazed  at  him.  Once  more  Keyser 
looked  at  his  watch :  Seven  minutes.  E-egante  noticed 
Sarah's  emotion,  and  his  face  showed  that  her  face 
pleased  him.  He  spoke  in  a  deep  voice  to  Fur  Cap, 
stretching  a  fringed  arm  out  towards  the  hill  with  a 
royal  gesture,  at  which  Fur  Cap  rose. 

"  He  will  come,  he  will  come !"  said  the  squaw,  run 
ning  to  Keyser.  "They  all  come  now.  Do  not 
shoot." 

"  Let  them  show  outside,  then,"  thundered  Keyser, 
"  or  it's  too  late.  If  that  gun  goes  before  I  can  tell 
my  men — " 

He  broke  off  and  rushed  to  the  entrance.  There 
were  skirmishers  deploying  from  three  points,  and 
Crook  was  raising  his  hand  slowly.  There  was  a 
pistol  in  it.  "  General !  General !"  Keyser  shouted,  wav 
ing  both  hands,  "  No  !"  Behind  him  came  E-egante, 
with  Sarah,  talking  in  low  tones,  and  Fur  Cap  came 
too. 

The  General  saw,  and  did  not  give  the  signal. 
The  sight  of  the  skirmishers  hastened  E-egante's  mind. 
He  spoke  in  a  loud  voice,  and  at  once  his  warriors 
began  to  emerge  from  the  willows  pbediently.  Crook's 
bluff  was  succeeding.  The  Indians  in  waiting  after 
nine  were  attempting  a  little  bluff  of  their  own  ;  but 
the  unprecedented  visit  of  nine  men  appeared  to  them 
so  dauntless  that  all  notion  of  resistance  left  them. 
They  were  sure  Gray  Fox  had  a  large  army.  And 


HE    HESITATED    TO    KILL    THE    WOMAN 


THE  GENERAL'S  BLUFF  113 

they  came,  and  kept  coming,  and  the  place  became 
full  of  them.  The  troopers  had  all  they  could  do  to 
form  an  escort  and  keep  up  the  delusion,  but  by  de 
grees  order  began,  and  the  column  was  forming.  Rid 
ing  along  the  edge  of  the  willows  came  E-egante,  gay 
in  his  blankets,  and  saying,  "  How !  how !"  to  Keyser, 
the  only  man  at  all  near  him.  The  pony  ambled,  and 
sidled,  paused,  trotted  a  little,  and  Keyser  was  begin 
ning  to  wonder,  when  all  at  once  a  woman  in  a  green 
shawl  sprang  from  the  thicket,  leaped  behind  the  chief, 
and  the  pony  flashed  by  and  away,  round  the  curve. 
Keyser  had  lifted  his  carbine,  but  forbore ;  for  he  hes 
itated  to  kill  the  woman.  Once  more  the  two  ap 
peared,  diminutive  and  scurrying,  the  green  shawl 
bright  against  the  hill-side  they  climbed.  Sarah  had 
been  willing  to  take  her  chances  of  death  with  her 
hero,  and  now  she  vanished  with  him  among  his  moun 
tains,  returning  to  her  kind,  and  leaving  her  wedded 
white  man  and  half-breeds  forever. 

"  I  don't  feel  so  mad  as  I  ought,"  said  Specimen 
Jones. 

Crook  laughed  to  Glynn  about  it.  "  We've  got  a 
big  balance  of  'em,"  he  said,  "  if  we  can  get  'em  all  to 
Boise.  They'll  probably  roast  me  in  the  East."  And 
they  did.  Hearing  how  forty  took  three  hundred,  but 
let  one  escape  (and  a  few  more  on  the  march  home), 
the  superannuated  cattle  of  the  War  Department 
sat  sipping  their  drink  at  the  club  in  Washington, 
and  explained  to  each  other  how  they  would  have 
done  it. 

And  so  the  General's  bluff  partly  failed.  E-egante 
kept  his  freedom,  "  all  along  o'  thet  yere  pizen  squaw," 
as  Mr.  Long  judiciously  remarked.  It  was  not  until 
many  years  after  that  the  chief's  destiny  overtook 

8 


II4  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

him;  and  concerning  that,  things  both  curious  and 
sad  could  be  told.* 

*  Let  me  no  longer  pervert  General  Crook's  military  tactics. 
It  was  a  dismounted  charge  that  he  ordered  on  this  occasion,  as 
a  friend  who  was  present  has  written  me  since  the  first  publica 
tion  of  this  story. 

Mr.  Remington's  illustration  was  made  to  suit  the  text  in  its 
original  form. — Publisher's  Note. 


SALVATION   GAP 

AFTER  cutting  the  Gazelle's  throat,  Drylyn  had 
gone  out  of  her  tent,  secure  and  happy  in  choosing 
the  skilful  moment.  They  would  think  it  was  the 
other  man — the  unknown  one.  There  were  his  boot- 
prints  this  fine  morning,  marking  his  way  from  the 
tent  down  the  hill  into  the  trees.  He  was  not  an  in 
habitant  of  the  camp.  This  was  his  first  visit,  cau 
tiously  made,  and  nobody  had  seen  him  come  or  go 
except  Drylyn. 

The  woman  was  proprietor  of  the  dance -hall  at 
Salvation  Gap,  and  on  account  of  her  beauty  and 
habits  had  been  named  the  American  Beer  Gazelle  by 
a  travelling  naturalist  who  had  education,  and  was  in 
terested  in  the  wild  animals  of  all  countries.  Dry- 
lyn's  relations  with  the  Gazelle  were  colored  with 
sentiment.  The  sentiment  on  his  part  was  genuine ; 
so  genuine  that  the  shrewd  noticing  camp  joked  Dry 
lyn,  telling  him  he  had  grown  to  look  young  again 
under  the  elixir  of  romance.  One  of  the  prospectors 
had  remarked  fancifully  that  Drylyn's  "  rusted  mus 
tache  had  livened  up ;  same  ez  flow'rs  ye've  kerried  a 
long  ways  when  yer  girl  puts  'em  in  a  pitcher  o'  wa 
ter."  Being  the  sentiment  of  a  placer  miner,  the  lov 
er's  feeling  took  no  offence  or  wound  at  any  conduct 
of  the  Gazelle's  that  was  purely  official ;  it  was  for 


Il6  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

him  that  she  personally  cared.  He  never  thought  of 
suspecting  anything  when,  after  one  of  her  trips  to 
Folsom,  she  began  to  send  away  some  of  the  profits — 
gold,  coined  sometimes,  sometimes  raw  dust  —  that 
her  hall  of  entertainment  earned  for  her.  She  men 
tioned  to  him  that  her  mother  in  San  Anton'  needed 
it,  and  simple-minded  Drylyn  believed.  It  did  not 
occur  to  him  to  ask,  or  even  wonder,  how  it  came 
that  this  mother  had  never  needed  money  until  so 
lately,  or  why  the  trips  to  Folsom  became  so  con 
stant.  Counting  her  middle-aged  adorer  a  fool,  the 
humorous  Gazelle  had  actually  once,  on  being  pre 
vented  from  taking  the  journey  herself,  asked  him  to 
carry  the  package  to  Folsom  for  her,  and  deliver  it 
there  to  a  certain  shot-gun  messenger  of  the  express 
company,  who  would  see  that  it  went  to  the  right 
place.  A  woman's  name  and  an  address  at  San  An 
tonio  were  certainly  scrawled  on  the  parcel.  The 
faithful  Drylyn  waited  till  the  stage  came  in,  and 
handed  over  his  treasure  to  the  messenger,  who  gave 
him  one  amazed  look  that  he  did  not  notice.  He 
ought  to  have  seen  that  young  man  awhile  afterwards, 
the  package  torn  open,  a  bag  of  dust  on  his  knee, 
laughing  almost  to  tears  over  a  letter  he  had  found 
with  the  gold  inside  the  wrapping.  But  Drylyn  was 
on  the  road  up  to  Salvation  Gap  at  that  time.  The 
shot-gun  messenger  was  twenty  -  three  ;  Drylyn  was 
forty-five.  Gazelles  are  apt  to  do  this  sort  of  thing. 
After  all,  though,  it  was  silly,  just  for  the  sake  of  a 
laugh,  to  let  the  old  lover  learn  the  face  of  his  secret 
rival.  It  was  one  of  those  early  unimagined  nails 
people  sometimes  drive  in  their  own  coffins.  An  an 
cient  series  of  events  followed :  continued  abject  faith 
and  passion  on  the  miner's  part ;  continued  presents 


SALVATION   GAP  1 17 

of  dust  from  him  to  the  lady ;  on  her  part  continued 
trips  to  Folsom,  a  lessened  caution,  and  a  brag  of 
manner  based  upon  her  very  just  popularity  at  the 
Gap;  next,  Drylyn's  first  sickening  dawn  of  doubt, 
jealousy  equipping  him  with  a  new  and  alien  slyness ; 
the  final  accident  of  his  seeing  the  shot-gun  messen 
ger  on  his  very  first  visit  to  the  Gap  come  out  of  the 
Gazelle's  tent  so  early  in  the  morning;  the  instant 
blaze  of  truth  and  fury  that  turned  Drylyn  to  a  clever, 
calculating  wild  beast.  So  now  her  throat  was  cut, 
and  she  was  good  and  dead.  He  had  managed  well. 
The  whole  game  had  shown  instantly  like  a  picture  on 
his  brain,  complete  at  a  stroke,  with  every  move  clear. 
He  had  let  the  man  go  down  the  hill  —  just  for  the 
present.  The  camp  had  got  up,  eaten  its  breakfast, 
and  gone  out  to  the  ditches,  Drylyn  along  with  the 
rest.  Owing  to  its  situation,  neighbors  could  not  see 
him  presently  leave  his  claim  and  walk  back  quickly 
to  the  Gap  at  an  hour  when  the  dance-hall  was  likely 
to  be  lonely.  He  had  ready  what  to  say  if  the  other 
women  should  be  there ;  but  they  were  away  at  the 
creek  below,  washing,  and  the  luxurious,  unsuspect 
ing  Gazelle  was  in  bed  in  her  own  tent,  not  yet  dis 
turbed.  The  quiet  wild  beast  walked  through  the  de 
serted  front  entrance  of  the  hall  in  the  most  natural 
manner,  and  so  behind  among  the  empty  bottles,  and 
along  the  plank  into  the  tent ;  then,  after  a  while,  out 
again.  She  would  never  be  disturbed  now,  and  the 
wild  beast  was  back  at  his  claim,  knee-deep,  and  busy 
among  the  digging  and  the  wetness,  in  another  pair  of 
overalls  just  like  the  ones  that  were  now  under  some 
stones  at  the  bottom  of  a  mud-puddle.  And  then  one 
very  bad  long  scream  came  up  to  the  ditches,  and  Dry 
lyn  knew  the  women  had  returned  from  their  washing. 


1 18  RED  MEN  AND   WHITE 

He  raised  his  head  mechanically  to  listen.  Hq 
had  never  been  a  bad  man ;  had  never  wished  to  hurt 
anybody  in  his  life  before  that  he  could  remember ; 
but  as  he  pondered  upon  it  in  his  slow,  sure  brain,  he 
knew  that  he  was  glad  he  had  done  this,  and  was  go 
ing  to  do  more.  He  was  going  to  follow  those  tracks 
pretty  soon,  and  finish  the  whole  job  with  his  own 
hand.  They  had  fooled  him,  and  had  taken  trouble 
to  do  it ;  gone  out  of  their  way,  made  game  of  him 
to  the  quick ;  and  when  he  remembered,  for  the 
twentieth  time  this  morning,  that  day  he  had  carried 
the  package  of  gold-dust — some  of  it  very  likely  his 
own — to  the  smooth-faced  messenger  at  Folsom,  Dry- 
lyn's  stolid  body  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  he 
spoke  blind,  inarticulate  words. 

But  down  below  there  the  screams  were  sounding. 
A  brother  miner  came  running  by.  Drylyn  realized 
that  he  ought  to  be  running  too,  of  course,  and  so  he 
ran.  All  the  men  were  running  from  their  various 
scattered  claims,  and  Salvation  Gap  grew  noisy  and 
full  of  people  at  once.  There  was  the  sheriff  also, 
come  up  last  evening  on  the  track  of  some  stage- 
robbers,  and  quite  opportune  for  this,  he  thought. 
He  liked  things  to  be  done  legally.  The  turmoil  of 
execration  and  fierce  curiosity  thrashed  about  for  the 
right  man  to  pitch  on  for  this  crime.  The  murdered 
woman  had  been  so  good  company,  so  hearty  a  wit, 
such  a  robust  songstress,  so  tireless  a  dancer,  so  thor 
oughly  everybody's  friend,  that  it  was  inconceivable 
to  the  mind  of  Salvation  Gap  that  anybody  there  had 
done  it.  The  women  were  crying  and  wringing  their 
hands — the  Gazelle  had  been  good  to  them  too ;  the 
men  were  talking  and  cursing,  all  but  Drylyn  there 
among  them,  serious  and  strange-looking;  so  silent 


SALVATION  GAP  119 

that  the  sheriff  eyed  him  once  or  twice,  though  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  miner's  infatuation.  And  then 
some  woman  shrieked  out  the  name  of  Drylyn,  and 
the  crowd  had  him  gripped  in  a  second,  to  let  him  go 
the  next,  laughing  at  the  preposterous  idea.  Saying 
nothing  ?  Of  course  he  didn't  feel  like  talking.  To 
be  sure  he  looked  dazed.  It  was  hard  luck  on  him. 
They  told  the  sheriff  about  him  and  the  Gazelle. 
They  explained  that  Drylyn  was  "  sort  of  loony,  any 
way,"  and  the  sheriff  said,  "  Oh !"  and  began  to  won 
der  and  surmise  in  this  half-minute  they  had  been 
now  gathered,  when  suddenly  the  inevitable  boot- 
prints  behind  the  tent  down  the  hill  were  found. 
The  shout  of  discovery  startled  Drylyn  as  genuinely 
as  if  he  had  never  known,  and  he  joined  the  wild 
rush  of  people  to  the  hill.  Nor  was  this  acting.  The 
violence  he  had  set  going,  and  in  which  he  swam  like 
a  straw,  made  him  forget,  or  for  the  moment  drift  away 
from,  his  arranged  thoughts,  and  the  tracks  on  the 
hill  had  gone  clean  out  of  his  head.  He  was  become 
a  mere  blank  spectator  in  the  storm,  incapable  of  cal 
culation.  His  own  handiwork  had  stunned  him,  for 
he  had  not  foreseen  that  consequences  were  going  to 
rise  and  burst  like  this.  The  next  thing  he  knew  he 
was  in  a  pursuit,  with  pine-trees  passing,  and  the  hur 
rying  sheriff  remarking  to  the  band  that  he  proposed 
to  maintain  order.  Drylyn  heard  his  neighbor,  a  true 
Californian,  whose  words  were  lightest  when  his  pur 
pose  was  most  serious,  telling  the  sheriff  that  order 
was  certainly  Heaven's  first  law,  and  an  elegant  thing 
anywhere.  But  the  anxious  officer  made  no  retort  in 
kind,  and  only  said  that  irregularities  were  damaging 
to  the  county's  good  name,  and  would  keep  settlers 
from  moving  in.  So  the  neighbor  turned  to  Drylyn 


120  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

and  asked  him  when  he  was  intending  to  wake  up,  as 
sleep-walking  was  considered  to  be  unhealthy.  Dry- 
lyn  gave  a  queer,  almost  wistful,  smile,  and  so  they 
went  along  ;  the  chatty  neighbor  spoke  low  to  another 
man,  and  said  he  had  never  sized  up  the  true  state  of 
Drylyn's  feeling  for  the  Gazelle,  and  that  the  sheriff 
might  persuade  some  people  to  keep  regular,  when 
they  found  the  man  they  were  hunting,  but  he  doubt 
ed  if  the  sheriff  would  be  persuading  enough  for  Dry- 
lyn.  They  came  out  on  a  road,  and  the  sleep-walker 
recognized  a  rock  and  knew  how  far  they  had  gone, 
and  that  this  was  the  stage-road  between  Folsom  and 
Surprise  Springs.  They  followed  the  road,  and  round 
a  bend  came  on  the  man.  He  had  been  taking  it 
easily,  being  in  no  hurry.  He  had  come  to  this  point 
by  the  stage  the  night  before,  and  now  he  was  waiting 
for  its  return  to  take  him  back  to  Folsom.  He  had 
been  lunching,  and  was  seated  on  a  stone  by  a  small 
creek.  He  looked  up  and  saw  them,  and  their  gait, 
and  ominous  compactness.  What  he  did  was  not  the 
thing  for  him  to  do.  He  leaped  into  cover  and  drew 
his  revolver.  This  attempt  at  defence  and  escape  was 
really  for  the  sake  of  the  gold-dust  he  had  in  his  pock 
et.  But  when  he  recognized  the  sheriff's  voice,  telling 
him  it  would  go  better  with  him  if  he  did  not  try  to  kill 
any  more  people,  he  was  greatly  relieved  that  it  was 
not  highwaymen  after  him  and  his  little  gold,  and  he 
put  up  his  pistol  and  waited  for  them,  smiling,  secure 
in  his  identity ;  and  when  they  drew  nearer  he  asked 
them  how  many  people  he  had  killed  already.  They 
came  up  and  caught  him  and  found  the  gold  in  a  mo 
ment,  ripping  it  from  his  pocket ;  and  the  yell  they 
gave  at  that  stopped  his  smiling  entirely.  When  he 
found  himself  in  irons  and  hurried  along,  he  began 


SALVATION   GAP  121 

to  explain  that  there  was  some  mistake,  and  was  told 
by  the  chatty  neighbor  that  maybe  killing  a  woman 
was  always  a  mistake,  certainly  one  this  time.  As 
they  walked  him  among  them  they  gave  small  notice 
to  his  growing  fright  and  bewilderment,  but  when  he 
appealed  to  the  sheriff  on  the  score  of  old  acquaint 
anceship,  and  pitifully  begged  to  know  what  they  sup 
posed  he  had  done,  the  miners  laughed  curiously. 
That  brought  his  entreating  back  to  them,  and  he 
assured  them,  looking  in  their  faces,  that  he  truly  did 
need  to  be  told  why  they  wanted  him.  So  they  held 
up  the  gold  and  asked  him  whose  that  had  been,  and 
he  made  a  wretched  hesitation  in  answering.  If  any 
thing  was  needed  to  clinch  their  certainty,  that  did. 
They  could  not  know  that  the  young  successful  lover 
had  recognized  Drylyn's  strange  face,  and  did  not 
want  to  tell  the  truth  before  him,  and  hence  was  telling 
an  unskilful  lie  instead.  A  rattle  of  wheels  sounded 
among  the  pines  ahead,  and  the  stage  came  up  and 
stopped.  Only  the  driver  and  a  friend  were  on  it, 
and  both  of  them  knew  the  shot-gun  messenger  and 
the  sheriff,  and  they  asked  in  some  astonishment  what 
the  trouble  was.  It  had  been  stage-robbers  the  sher 
iff  had  started  after,  the  driver  thought.  And — as  he 
commented  in  friendly  tones — to  turn  up  with  Wells 
and  Fargo's  messenger  was  the  neatest  practical  joke 
that  had  occurred  in  the  county  for  some  time.  The 
always  serious  and  anxious  sheriff  told  the  driver  the 
accusation,  and  it  was  a  genuine  cry  of  horror  that 
the  young  lover  gave  at  hearing  the  truth  at  last,  and 
at  feeling  the  ghastly  chain  of  probability  that  had 
wound  itself  about  him. 

The  sheriff  wondered  if  there  were  a  true  ring  in  the 
man's  voice.     It  certainly  sounded  so.     He  was  talk- 


122  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

ing  with  rapid  agony,  and  it  was  the  whole  true  story 
that  was  coming  out  now.  But  the  chatty  neighbor 
nudged  another  neighbor  at  the  new  explanation  about 
the  gold-dust.  That  there  was  no  great  quantity  of  it, 
after  all,  weighed  little  against  this  double  accounting  for 
one  simple  fact ;  moreover,  the  new  version  did  not  do 
the  messenger  credit  in  the  estimation  of  the  miners,  but 
gave  them  a  still  worse  opinion  of  him.  It  is  scarcely 
fair  to  disbelieve  what  a  man  says  he  did,  and  at  the 
same  time  despise  him  for  having  done  it.  Miners, 
however,  are  rational  rather  than  logical ;  while  the 
listening  sheriff  grew  more  determined  there  should  be 
a  proper  trial,  the  deputation  from  the  Gap  made  up 
its  mind  more  inexorably  the  other  way.  It  had  even 
been  in  the  miners'  heads  to  finish  the  business  here 
on  the  Folsom  road,  and  get  home  for  supper ;  pine- 
trees  were  handy,  and  there  was  rope  in  the  stage. 
They  were  not  much  moved  by  the  sheriff 's  plea  that 
something  further  might  have  turned  up  at  the  Gap  ; 
but  at  the  driver's  more  forcible  suggestion  that  the 
Gap  would  feel  disappointed  at  being  left  out,  they 
consented  to  take  the  man  back  there.  Drylyn  never 
offered  any  opinion,  or  spoke  at  all.  It  was  not  nec 
essary  that  he  should,  and  they  forgot  about  him.  It 
was  time  to  be  getting  along,  they  said.  What  was 
the  good  in  standing  in  the  road  here  ?  They  nodded 
good-day  to  the  stage-driver,  and  took  themselves  and 
the  prisoner  into  the  pines.  Once  the  sheriff  had 
looked  at  the  driver  and  his  friend  perched  on  the 
halted  stage,  but  he  immediately  saw  too  much  risk  in 
his  half-formed  notion  of  an  alliance  with  them  to  gal 
lop  off  with  the  prisoner ;  his  part  must  come  later,  if 
at  all. 

But  the  driver  had  perfectly  understood  the  sheriffs 


SALVATION  GAP  123 

glance,  and  he  was  on  the  sheriffs  side,  though  he 
showed  no  sign.  As  he  drove  along  he  began  think 
ing  about  the  way  the  prisoner  had  cried  out  just  now, 
and  the  inconsiderable  value  of  the  dust,  and  it  became 
clear  in  his  mind  that  this  was  a  matter  for  a  court  and 
twelve  quiet  men.  The  friend  beside  him  was  also  in 
tent  upon  his  own  thoughts,  and  neither  said  a  word 
to  the  other  upon  the  lonely  road.  The  horses  soon 
knew  that  they  were  not  being  driven  any  more,  and 
they  slackened  their  pace,  and  finding  no  reproof  came 
for  this,  they  fell  to  a  comfortable  walk.  Presently 
several  had  snatched  a  branch  in  passing,  and  it  waved 
from  their  mouths  as  they  nibbled.  After  that  they 
gave  up  all  pretence  at  being  stage-horses,  and  the 
driver  noticed  them.  From  habit  he  whipped  them 
up  into  shape  and  gait,  and  the  next  moment  pulled 
them  in  short,  at  the  thought  that  had  come  to  him. 
The  prisoner  must  be  got  away  from  the  Gap.  The 
sheriff  was  too  single-handed  among  such  a  crowd  as 
that,  and  the  driver  put  a  question  to  his  friend.  It 
could  be  managed  by  taking  a  slight  liberty  with  other 
people's  horses ;  but  Wells  and  Fargo  would  not  find 
fault  with  this  when  the  case  was  one  of  their  own  ser 
vants,  hitherto  so  well  thought  of.  The  stage,  being 
empty  and  light,  could  spare  two  horses  and  go  on, 
while  those  two  horses,  handled  with  discretion  and 
timeliness,  might  be  very  useful  at  the  Gap.  The 
driver  had  best  not  depart  from  rule  so  far  as  to  leave 
his  post  and  duty ;  one  man  would  be  enough.  The 
friend  thought  well  of  this  plan,  and  they  climbed 
down  into  the  road  from  opposite  sides  and  took  out 
the  wheelers.  To  be  sure  these  animals  were  heavy, 
and  not  of  the  best  sort  for  escaping  on,  but  better 
than  walking;  and  timeliness 'and  discretion  can  do  a 


124  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

great  deal.  So  in  a  little  while  the  driver  and  his 
stage  were  gone  on  their  way,  the  friend  with  the  two 
horses  had  disappeared  in  the  wood,  and  the  road  was 
altogether  lonely. 

The  sheriff's  brain  was  hard  at  work,  and  he  made 
no  protest  now  as  he  walked  along,  passive  in  the  com 
pany  of  the  miners  and  their  prisoner.  The  prisoner 
had  said  all  that  he  had  to  say,  and  his  man's  firm 
ness,  which  the  first  shock  and  amazement  had 
wrenched  from  him,  had  come  to  his  help  again,  bring 
ing  a  certain  shame  at  having  let  his  reserve  and  bear 
ing  fall  to  pieces,  and  at  having  made  himself  a  show ; 
so  he  spoke  no  more  than  his  grim  captors  did,  as 
they  took  him  swiftly  through  the  wood.  The  sheriff 
was  glad  it  was  some  miles  they  had  to  go  ;  for  though 
they  went  very  fast,  the  distance  and  the  time,  and 
even  the  becoming  tired  in  body,  might  incline  their 
minds  to  more  deliberation.  He  could  think  yet  of 
nothing  new  to  urge.  He  had  seen  and  heard  only  the 
same  things  that  all  had,  and  his  present  hopes  lay 
upon  the  Gap  and  what  more  might  have  come  to  light 
there  since  his  departure.  He  looked  at  Drylyn,  but 
the  miner's  serious  and  massive  face  gave  him  no  sug 
gestion  ;  and  the  sheriff's  reason  again  destroyed  the 
germ  of  suspicion  that  something  plainly  against  rea 
son  had  several  times  put  in  his  thoughts.  Yet  it 
stuck  with  him  that  they  had  hold  of  the  wrong  man. 

When  they  reached  the  Gap,  and  he  found  the  peo 
ple  there  as  he  had  left  them,  and  things  the  same 
way,  with  nothing  new  turned  up  to  help  his  theory, 
the  sheriff  once  more  looked  round  ;  but  Drylyn  was 
not  in  the  crowd.  He  had  gone,  they  told  him,  to  look 
at  her ;  he  had  set  a  heap  of  store  by  her,  they  re 
peated. 


SALVATION    GAP  125 

"A  heap  of  store,"  said  the  sheriff,  thinking. 
"Where  is  she  now?" 

"  On  her  bed,"  said  a  woman,  "same  as  ever,  only 
we've  fixed  her  up  some." 

"  Then  I'll  take  a  look  at  her — and  him.  You  boys 
won't  do  anything  till  I  come  back,  will  you  ?" 

"  Why,  if  ye're  so  anxious  to  see  us  do  it,  sheriff," 
said  the  chatty  neighbor,  "  I  guess  we  can  wait  that 
long  fer  ye." 

The  officer  walked  to  the  tent.  Drylyn  was  stand 
ing  over  the  body,  quiet  and  dumb.  He  was  safe  for 
the  present,  the  sheriff  knew,  and  so  he  left  him  with 
out  speaking  and  returned  to  the  prisoner  and  his 
guard  in  front  of  the  dance-hall.  He  found  them  duly 
waiting ;  the  only  change  was  that  they  had  a  rope 
there. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  said  the  sheriff,  "  there  was  a 
man  in  Arkansaw  that  had  no  judgment." 

"  They  raise  'em  that  way  in  Arkansaw,"  said  the 
chatty  neighbor,  as  the  company  made  a  circle  to  hear 
the  story — a  tight,  cautious  circle — with  the  prisoner 
and  the  officer  beside  him  standing  in  the  centre. 

"  The  man's  wife  had  good  judgment,"  continued 
the  narrator,  "  but  she  went  and  died  on  him." 

"Well,  I  guess  that  was  good  judgment,"  said  the 
neighbor. 

"  So  the  man,  he  had  to  run  the  farm  alone.  Now 
they  raised  poultry,  which  his  wife  had  always  attend 
ed  to.  And  he  knew  she  had  a  habit  of  setting  hens 
on  duck  eggs.  He  had  never  inquired  her  reasons, 
being  shiftless,  but  that  fact  he  knew.  Well,  come 
to  investigate  the  hen-house,  there  was  duck  eggs,  and 
hens  on  'em,  and  also  a  heap  of  hens'  eggs,  but  no 
more  hens  wishing  to  set.  So  the  man,  having  no 


126  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

judgment,  persuaded  a  duck  to  stay  with  those  eggs. 
Now  it's  her  I'm  chiefly  interested  in.  She  was  a 
good  enough  duck,  but  hasty.  When  the  eggs  hatched 
out,  she  didn't  stop  to  notice,  but  up  and  takes  them 
down  to  the  pond,  and  gets  mad  with  them,  and 
shoves  them  in,  and  they  drowns.  Next  day  or  two 
a  lot  of  the  young  ducks,  they  hatched  out  and  come 
down  with  the  hen  and  got  in  the  water  all  right,  and 
the  duck  figured  out  she'd  made  some  mistake,  and  she 
felt  distressed.  But  the  chickens  were  in  heaven." 

The  sheriff  studied  his  audience,  and  saw  that  he 
had  lulled  their  rage  a  little.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  ain't 
you  boys  just  a  trifle  like  that  duck?  I  don't  know 
as  I  can  say  much  to  you  more  than  what  I  have  said, 
and  I  don't  know  as  I  can  do  anything,  fixed  as  I  am. 
This  thing  looks  bad  for  him  we've  got  here.  Why, 
I  can  see  that  as  well  as  you.  But,  boys !  it's  an 
awful  thing  to  kill  an  innocent  man  !  I  saw  that  done 
once,  and — God  forgive  me ! — I  was  one  of  them. 
I'll  tell  you  how  that  was.  He  looked  enough  like 
the  man  we  wanted.  We  were  certainly  on  the  right 
trail.  We  came  on  a  cabin  we'd  never  known  of  be 
fore,  pretty  far  up  in  the  hills — a  strange  cabin,  you 
see.  That  seemed  just  right;  just  where  a  man 
would  hide.  We  were  mad  at  the  crime  committed, 
and  took  no  thought.  We  knew  we  had  caught  him 
— that's  the  way  we  felt.  So  we  got  our  guns  ready, 
and  crept  up  close  through  the  trees,  and  surrounded 
that  cabin.  We  called  him  to  come  out,  and  he  came 
with  a  book  in  his  hands  he'd  been  reading.  He  did 
look  like  the  man,  and  boys  ! — we  gave  him  no  time  ! 
He  never  knew  why  we  fired.  He  was  a  harmless  old 
prospector  who  had  got  tired  of  poor  luck  and  knock 
ing  around,  and  over  his  door  he  had  painted  some 


SALVATION   GAP  127 

words :  '  Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling/ 
He  had  figured  that  up  there  by  that  mountain 
stream  the  world  would  let  him  alone.  And  ever 
since  then  I  have  thought  my  life  belonged  to  him 
first,  and  me  second.  Now  this  afternoon  I'm  alone 
here.  You  know  I  can't  do  much.  And  I'm  going  to 
ask  you  to  help  me  respect  the  law.  I  don't  say  that 
in  this  big  country  there  may  not  be  places,  and  there 
may  not  be  times,  when  the  law  is  too  young  or  else 
too  rotten  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  when  the  Ameri 
can  citizen  must  go  back  to  bed-rock  principles.  But 
is  that  so  in  our  valley?  Why,  if  this  prisoner  is 
guilty,  you  can't  name  me  one  man  of  your  acquaint 
ance  who  would  want  him  to  live.  And  that  being 
so,  don't  we  owe  him  the  chance  to  clear  himself  if  he 
can  ?  I  can  see  that  prospector  now  at  his  door,  old, 
harmless,  coming  fearless  at  our  call,  because  he  had 
no  guilt  upon  his  conscience — and  we  shot  him  down 
without  a  word.  Boys !  he  has  the  call  on  me  now ; 
and  if  you  insist — " 

The  sheriff  paused,  satisfied  with  what  he  saw  on 
the  faces  around  him.  Some  of  the  men  knew  the 
story  of  the  prospector — it  had  been  in  the  papers — 
but  of  his  part  in  it  they  had  not  known.  They 
understood  quite  well  the  sacrifice  he  stood  ready  to 
make  now  in  defending  the  prisoner.  The  favorable 
silence  was  broken  by  the  sound  of  horses.  Timeli 
ness  and  discretion  were  coming  up  the  hill.  Drylyn 
at  the  same  moment  came  out  of  the  dead  woman's 
tent,  and,  looking  down,  realized  the  intended  rescue. 
With  his  mind  waked  suddenly  from  its  dull  dream 
and  opened  with  a  human  impulse,  he  ran  to  help ; 
but  the  sheriff  saw  him,  and  thought  he  was  trying  to 
escape. 


128  RED   MEN   AND  WHITE 

"That's  the  man!"  he  shouted  savagely  to  the 
ring. 

Some  of  the  Gap  ran  to  the  edge  of  the  hill,  and, 
seeing  the  hurrying  Drylyn  and  the  horses  below,  also 
realized  the  rescue.  Putting  the  wrong  two  and  two 
together,  they  instantly  saw  in  all  this  a  well-devised 
scheme  of  delay  and  collusion.  They  came  back, 
running  through  the  dance-hall  to  the  front,  and  the 
sheriff  was  pinioned  from  behind,  thrown  down,  and 
held. 

"  So  ye  were  alone,  were  ye  ?"  said  the  chatty 
neighbor.  "  Well,  ye  made  a  good  talk.  Keep  quiet 
— we  don't  want  to  hurt  ye." 

At  this  supposed  perfidy  the  Gap's  rage  was  at 
white  -  heat  again ;  the  men  massed  together,  and 
fierce  and  quick  as  lightning  the  messenger's  fate 
was  wrought.  The  work  of  adjusting  the  rope  and 
noose  was  complete  and  death  going  on  in  the  air 
when  Drylyn,  meaning  to  look  the  ground  over  for 
the  rescue,  came  cautiously  back  up  the  hill  and  saw 
the  body,  black  against  the  clear  sunset  sky.  At  his 
outcry  they  made  ready  for  him,  and  when  he  blindly 
rushed  among  them  they  held  him,  and  paid  no  at 
tention  to  his  ravings.  Then,  when  the  rope  had 
finished  its  work,  they  let  him  go,  and  the  sheriff  too. 
The  driver's  friend  had  left  his  horses  among  the 
pines,  and  had  come  up  to  see  what  was  going  on  at 
the  Gap.  He  how  joined  the  crowd. 

"  You  meant  well,"  the  sheriff  said  to  him.  "  I 
wish  you  would  tell  the  boys  how  you  come  to  be 
here.  They're  thinking  I  lied  to  them." 

"  Maybe  I  can  change  their  minds."  It  was 
Drylyn's  deep  voice.  "  I  am  the  man  you  were  hunt 
ing,"  he  said. 


SALVATION   GAP  1 39 

They  looked  at  him  seriously,  as  one  looks  at  a 
friend  whom  an  illness  has  seized.  The  storm  of 
feeling  had  spent  itself,  the  mood  of  the  Gap  was  re 
laxed  and  torpid,  and  the  serenity  of  coming  dusk 
began  to  fill  the  mountain  air. 

"You  boys  think  I'm  touched  in  the  head,"  said 
Drylyn,  and  paused.  "  This  knife  done  it,"  said  he. 
"  This  one  I'm  showing  you." 

They  looked  at  the  knife  in  his  hand. 

"  He  come  between  me  and  her,"  Drylyn  pursued. 
"I  was  aiming  to  give  him  his  punishment  myself. 
That  would  have  been  square."  He  turned  the  knife 
over  in  his  hand,  and,  glancing  up  from  it,  caught  the 
look  in  their  eyes.  "  You  don't  believe  me  !"  he  ex 
claimed,  savagely.  "Well,  I'm  going  to  make  you. 
Sheriff,  I'll  bring  you  some  evidence." 

He  walked  to  the  creek,  and  they  stood  idle  and 
dull  till  he  returned.  Then  they  fell  back  from  him 
and  his  evidence,  leaving  him  standing  beneath  the 
dead  man. 

"  Does  them  look  like  being  touched  in  the  head  ?" 
inquired  Drylyn,  and  he  threw  down  the  overalls, 
which  fell  with  a  damp  slap  on  the  ground.  "  I  don't 
seem  to  mind  telling  you,"  he  said.  "  I  feel  as  quiet 
— as  quiet  as  them  tall  pines  the  sun's  just  quittin' 
for  the  night."  He  looked  at  the  men  expectantly, 
but  none  of  them  stirred.  "  I'd  liked  to  have  it  over," 
said  he. 

Still  no  one  moved. 

"  I  have  a  right  to  ask  it  shall  be  quick,"  he  re 
peated.  "  You  were  quick  enough  with  him."  And 
Drylyn  lifted  his  hand  towards  the  messenger. 

They  followed  his  gesture,  staring  up  at  the  wrong 
man,  then  down  at  the  right  one.  The  chatty  neigh- 


I3o  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

bor  shook  his  head.  "  Seems  curious,"  he  said, 
slowly.  "  It  ought  to  be  done.  But  I  couldn't  no 
more  do  it — gosh !  how  can  a  man  fire  his  gun  right 
after  it's  been  discharged  ?" 

The  heavy  Drylyn  looked  at  his  comrades  of  the 
Gap.  "  You  won't  ?"  he  said. 

"  You  better  quit  us,"  suggested  the  neighbor. 
"  Go  somewheres  else." 

Drylyn's  eyes  ran  painfully  over  ditch  and  diggings, 
the  near  cabins  and  the  distant  hills,  then  returned 
to  the  messenger.  "  Him  and  me,"  he  muttered.  "  It 
ain't  square.  Him  and  me — "  Suddenly  he  broke 
out,  "  I  don't  choose  him  to  think  I  was  that  kind  of 
man  !" 

Before  they  could  catch  him  he  fell,  and  the  wet 
knife  slid  from  his  fingers.  "  Sheriff,"  he  began,  but 
his  tone  changed.  "  I'm  overtakin'  him !"  he  said. 
"  He's  going  to  know  now.  Lay  me  alongside — " 

And  so  they  did. 


THE  SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE 


THE  Legislature  had  sat  up  all  night,  much  ab 
sorbed,  having  taken  off  its  coat  because  of  the  stove. 
This  was  the  fortieth  and  final  day  of  its  first  session 
under  an  order  of  things  not  new  only,  but  novel.  It 
sat  with  the  retrospect  of  forty  days'  duty  done,  and 
the  prospect  of  forty  days'  consequent  pay  to  come. 
Sleepy  it  was  not,  but  wide  and  wider  awake  over  a 
progressing  crisis.  Hungry  it  had  been  until  after  a 
breakfast  fetched  to  it  from  the  Overland  at  seven, 
three  hours  ago.  It  had  taken  no  intermission  to 
wash  its  face,  nor  was  there  just  now  any  apparatus 
for  this,  as  the  tin  pitcher  commonly  used  stood  not 
in  the  basin  in  the  corner,  but  on  the  floor  by  the 
Governor's  chair ;  so  the  eyes  of  the  Legislature, 
though  earnest,  were  dilapidated.  Last  night  the 
pressure  of  public  business  had  seemed  over,  and  no 
turning  back  the  hands  of  the  clock  likely  to  be  nec 
essary.  Besides  Governor  Ballard,  Mr.  Hewley,  Secre 
tary  and  Treasurer,  was  sitting  up  too,  small,  iron- 
gray,  in  feature  and  bearing  every  inch  the  capable, 
dignified  official,  but  his  necktie  had  slipped  off  dur 
ing  the  night.  The  bearded  Councillors  had  the 
best  of  it,  seeming  after  their  vigil  less  stale  in  the 


132  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

face  than  the  member  from  Silver  City,  for  instance, 
whose  day-old  black  growth  blurred  his  dingy  chin,  or 
the  member  from  Big  Camas,  whose  scantier  red  crop 
bristled  on  his  cheeks  in  sparse  wandering  arrange 
ments,  like  spikes  on  the  barrel  of  a  musical  box. 
For  comfort,  most  of  the  pistols  were  on  the  table 
with  the  Statutes  of  the  United  States.  Secretary  and 
Treasurer  Hewley's  lay  on  his  strong-box  immediately 
behind  him.  The  Governor's  was  a  light  one,  and  al 
ways  hung  in  the  armhole  of  his  waistcoat.  The 
graveyard  of  Boise  City  this  year  had  twenty-seven 
tenants,  two  brought  there  by  meningitis,  and  twenty- 
five  by  difference  of  opinion.  Many  denizens  of  the 
Territory  were  miners,  and  the  unsettling  element  of 
gold-dust  hung  in  the  air,  breeding  argument.  The 
early,  thin,  bright  morning  steadily  mellowed  against 
the  windows  distant  from  the  stove  ;  the  panes  melted 
clear  until  they  ran,  steamed  faintly,  and  dried,  this 
fresh  May  day,  after  the  night's  untimely  cold  ;  while 
still  the  Legislature  sat  in  its  shirt-sleeves,  and  several 
statesmen  had  removed  their  boots.  Even  had  ap 
pearances  counted,  the  session  was  invisible  from  the 
street.  Unlike  a  good  number  of  houses  in  the  town, 
the  State-House  (as  they  called  it  from  old  habit)  was 
not  all  on  the  ground-floor  for  outsiders  to  stare  into, 
but  up  a  flight  of  wood  steps  to  a  wood  gallery.  From 
this,  to  be  sure,  the  interior  could  be  watched  from 
several  windows  on  both  sides ;  but  the  journey  up 
the  steps  was  precisely  enough  to  disincline  the  idle, 
and  this  was  counted  a  sensible  thing  by  the  law 
makers.  They  took  the  ground  that  shaping  any  gov 
ernment  for  a  raw  wilderness  community  needed  se 
clusion,  and  they  set  a  high  value  upon  unworried 
privacy. 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  133 

The  sun  had  set  upon  a  concentrated  Council,  but 
it  rose  upon  faces  that  looked  momentous.  Only  the 
Governor's  and  Treasurer's  were  impassive,  and  they 
concealed  something  even  graver  than  the  matter  in 
hand. 

"  I'll  take  a  hun'red  mo',  Gove'nuh,"  said  the  mem 
ber  from  Silver  City,  softly,  his  eyes  on  space.  His 
name  was  Powhattan  Wingo. 

The  Governor  counted  out  the  blue,  white,  and  red 
chips  to  Wingo,  pencilled  some  figures  on  a  thickly 
ciphered  and  cancelled  paper  that  bore  in  print  the 
words  "Territory  of  Idaho,  Council  Chamber,"  and 
then  filled  up  his  glass  from  the  tin  pitcher,  adding  a 
little  sugar. 

"  And  I'll  trouble  you  fo'  the  toddy,"  Wingo  added, 
always  softly,  and  his  eyes  always  on  space.  "  Raise 
you  ten,  suh."  This  was  to  the  Treasurer.  Only  the 
two  were  playing  at  present.  The  Governor  was 
kindly  acting  as  bank  ;  the  others  were  looking  on. 

"  And  ten,"  said  the  Treasurer. 

"  And  ten,"  said  Wingo. 

"  And  twenty,"  said  the  Treasurer. 

"  And  fifty,"  said  Wingo,  gently  bestowing  his  chips 
in  the  middle  of  the  table. 

The  Treasurer  called. 

The  member  from  Silver  City  showed  down  five 
high  hearts,  and  a  light  rustle  went  over  the  Legislat 
ure  when  the  Treasurer  displayed  three  twos  and  a 
pair  of  threes,  and  gathered  in  his  harvest.  He  had 
drawn  two  cards,  Wingo  one  ;  and  losing  to  the  lowest 
hand  that  could  have  beaten  you  is  under  such  cir 
cumstances  truly  hard  luck.  Moreover,  it  was  almost 
the  only  sort  of  luck  that  had  attended  Wingo  since 
about  half  after  three  that  morning.  Seven  hours  of 


134  RED   MEN   AND  WHITE 

cards  just  a  little  lower  than  your  neighbor's  is  search 
ing  to  the  nerves. 

"  Gove'nuh,  I'll  take  a  hun'red  mo',"  said  Wingo ; 
and  once  again  the  Legislature  rustled  lightly,  and 
the  new  deal  began. 

Treasurer  Hewley's  winnings  flanked  his  right,  a 
pillared  fortress  on  the  table,  built  chiefly  of  Wingo's 
misfortunes.  Hewley  had  not  counted  them,  and  his 
architecture  was  for  neatness  and  not  ostentation  ;  yet 
the  Legislature  watched  him  arrange  his  gains  with 
sullen  eyes.  It  would  have  pleased  him  now  to  lose ; 
it  would  have  more  than  pleased  him  to  be  able  to  go 
to  bed  quite  a  long  time  ago.  But  winners  cannot 
easily  go  to  bed.  The  thoughtful  Treasurer  bet  his 
money  and  deplored  this  luck.  It  seemed  likely  to 
trap  himself  and  the  Governor  in  a  predicament  they 
had  not  foreseen.  All  had  taken  a  hand  at  first,  and 
played  for  several  hours,  until  Fortune's  wheel  ran 
into  a  rut  deeper  than  usual.  Wingo  slowly  became 
the  loser  to  several,  then  Hewley  had  forged  ahead, 
winner  from  everybody.  One  by  one  they  had  dropped 
out,  each  meaning  to  go  home,  and  all  lingering  to 
see  the  luck  turn.  It  was  an  extraordinary  run,  a  rare 
specimen,  a  breaker  of  records,  something  to  refer  to 
in  the  future  as  a  standard  of  measure  and  an  embel 
lishment  of  reminiscence ;  quite  enough  to  keep  the 
Idaho  Legislature  up  all  night.  And  then  it  was 
their  friend  who  was  losing.  The  only  speaking  in 
the  room  was  the  brief  card  talk  of  the  two  players. 

"  Five  better,"  said  Hewley,  winner  again  four  times 
in  the  last  five. 

"  Ten,"  said  Wingo. 

"  And  twenty,"  said  the  Secretary  and  Treasurer. 

"  Call  you." 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  135 

"  Three  kings." 

"  They  are  good,  suh.  Gove'nuh,  I'll  take  a  hun- 
'red  mo'." 

Upon  this  the  wealthy  and  weary  Treasurer  made  a 
try  for  liberty  and  bed.  How  would  it  do,  he  sug 
gested,  to  have  a  round  of  jack-pots,  say  ten — or 
twenty,  if  the  member  from  Silver  City  preferred — and 
then  stop  ?  It  would  do  excellently,  the  member 
said,  so  softly  that  the  Governor  looked  at  him.  But 
Wingo's  large  countenance  remained  inexpressive,  his 
black  eyes  still  impersonally  fixed  on  space.  He  sat 
thus  till  his  chips  were  counted. to  him,  and  then  the 
eyes  moved  to  watch  the  cards  fall.  The  Governor 
hoped  he  might  win  now,  under  the  jack-pot  system. 
At  noon  he  should  have  a  disclosure  to  make ;  some 
thing  that  would  need  the  most  cheerful  and  con 
tented  feelings  in  Wingo  and  the  Legislature  to  be 
received  with  any  sort  of  calm.  Wingo  was  behind 
the  game  to  the  tune  of — the  Governor  gave  up  add 
ing  as  he  ran  his  eye  over  the  figures  of  the  bank's 
erased  and  tormented  record,  and  he  shook  his  head 
to  himself.  This  was  inadvertent. 

"  May  I  inquah  who  yo're  shakin'  yoh  head  at,  suh  ?" 
said  Wingo,  wheeling  upon  the  surprised  Governor. 

*'  Certainly,"  answered  that  official.  "You."  He 
was  never  surprised  for  very  long.  In  1867  it  did  not 
do  to  remain  surprised  in  Idaho. 

"  And  have  I  done  anything  which  meets  yoh  dis 
approbation  ?"  pursued  the  member  from  Silver  City, 
enunciating  with  care. 

"  You  have  met  my  disapprobation." 

Wingo's  eye  was  on  the  Governor,  and  now  his 
friends  drew  a  little  together,  and  as  a  unit  sent  a 
glance  of  suspicion  at  the  lone  bank. 


136  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

"You  will  gratify  me  by  being  explicit,  suh,"  said 
Wingo  to  the  bank. 

"  Well,  you've  emptied  the  toddy." 

"  Ha-ha,  Gove'nuh  !  I  rose,  suh,  to  yoh  little  fly. 
We'll  awduh  some  mo'." 

"  Time  enough  when  he  comes  for  the  breakfast 
things,"  said  Governor  Ballard,  easily. 

"As  you  say,  suh.  I'll  open  for  five  dolluhs." 
Wingo  turned  back  to  his  game.  He  was  winning, 
and  as  his  luck  continued  his  voice  ceased  to  be  soft, 
and  became  a  shade  truculent.  The  Governor's  ears 
caught  this  change,  and  he  also  noted  the  lurking 
triumph  in  the  faces  of  Wingo's  fellow-statesmen. 
Cheerfulness  and  content  were  scarcely  reigning  yet 
in  the  Council  Chamber  of  Idaho  as  Ballard  sat 
watching  the  friendly  game.  He  was  beginning  to 
fear  that  he  must  leave  the  Treasurer  alone  and  take 
some  precautions  outside.  But  he  would  have  to  be 
separated  for  some  time  from  his  ally,  cut  off  from 
giving  him  any  hints.  Once  the  Treasurer  looked  at 
him,  and  he  immediately  winked  reassuringly,  but  the 
Treasurer  failed  to  respond.  Hewley  might  be  able 
to  wink  after  everything  was  over,  but  he  could  not 
find  it  in  his  serious  heart  to  do  so  now.  He  was 
wondering  what  would  happen  if  this  game  should  last 
till  noon  with  the  company  in  its  present  mood.  Noon 
was  the  time  fixed  for  paying  the  Legislative  Assem 
bly  the  compensation  due  for  its  services  during  this 
session  ;  and  the  Governor  and  the  Treasurer  had  put 
their  heads  together  and  arranged  a  surprise  for  the 
Legislative  Assembly.  They  were  not  going  to  pay 
them. 

A  knock  sounded  at  the  door,  and  on  seeing  the 
waiter  from  the  Overland  enter,  the  Governor  was 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  137 

seized  with  an  idea.  Perhaps  precaution  could  be 
taken  from  the  inside.  "  Take  this  pitcher,"  said  he, 
"  and  have  it  refilled  with  the  same.  Joseph  knows 
my  mixture."  But  Joseph  was  night  bar-tender,  and 
now  long  in  his  happy  bed,  with  a  day  successor  in 
the  saloon,  and  this  one  did  not  know  the  mixture. 
Ballard  had  foreseen  this  when  he  spoke,  and  that 
his  writing  a  note  of  directions  would  seem  quite  nat 
ural. 

"  The  receipt  is  as  long  as  the  drink,"  said  a  legis 
lator,  watching  the  Governor's  pencil  fly. 

"  He  don't  know  where  my  private  stock  is  located," 
explained  Ballard.  The  waiter  departed  with  the 
breakfast  things  and  the  note,  and  while  the  jack 
pots  continued  the  Governor's  mind  went  carefully 
over  the  situation. 

Until  lately  the  Western  citizen  has  known  one 
every -day  experience  that  no  dweller  in  our  thir 
teen  original  colonies  has  had  for  two  hundred  years. 
In  Massachusetts  they  have  not  seen  it  since  1641 ; 
in  Virginia  not  since  1628.  It  is  that  of  belonging  to 
a  community  of  which  every  adult  was  born  some 
where  else.  When  you  come  to  think  of  this  a  little 
it  is  dislocating  to  many  of  your  conventions.  Let  a 
citizen  of  Salem,  for  instance,  or  a  well-established 
Philadelphia  Quaker,  try  to  imagine  his  chief-justice 
fresh  from  Louisiana,  his  mayor  from  Arkansas,  his 
tax-collector  from  South  Carolina,  and  himself  re 
cently  arrived  in  a  wagon  from  a  thousand-mile  drive. 
To  be  governor  of  such  a  community  Ballard  had  trav 
elled  in  a  wagon  from  one  quarter  of  the  horizon ;  from 
another  quarter  Wingo  had  arrived  on  a  mule.  People 
reached  Boise'  in  three  ways :  by  rail  to  a  little  west 
of  the  Missouri,  after  which  it  was  wagon,  saddle,  or 


138  RED   MEN    AND   WHITE 

walk  for  the  remaining  fifteen  hundred  miles  ;  from 
California  it  was  shorter;  and  from  Portland,  Oregon, 
only  about  five  hundred  miles,  and  some  of  these 
more  agreeable,  by  water  up  the  Columbia.  Thus  it 
happened  that  salt  often  sold  for  its  weight  in  gold- 
dust.  A  miner  in  the  Bannock  Basin  would  meet  a 
freight  teamster  coming  in  with  the  staples  of  life, 
having  journeyed  perhaps  sixty  consecutive  days 
through  the  desert,  and  valuing  his  salt  highly.  The 
two  accordingly  bartered  in  scales,  white  powder 
against  yellow,  and  both  parties  content.  Some  in 
Boise  to-day  can  remember  these  bargains.  After  all, 
they  were  struck  but  thirty  years  ago.  Governor  Bal- 
lard  and  Treasurer  Hewley  did  not  come  from  the 
same  place,  but  they  constituted  a  minority  of  two  in 
Territorial  politics  because  they  hailed  from  north  of 
Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  Powhattan  Wingo  and  the 
rest  of  the  Council  were  from  Pike  County,  Missouri. 
They  had  been  Secessionists,  some  of  them  Knights 
of  the  Golden  Circle ;  they  had  belonged  to  Price's 
Left  Wing,  and  they  flocked  together.  They  were 
seven — two  lying  unwell  at  the  Overland,  five  now 
present  in  the  State-House  with  the  Governor  and 
Treasurer.  Wingo,  Gascon  Claiborne,  Gratiot  des 
Peres,  Pete  Cawthon,  and  F.  Jackson  Gilet  were  their 
names.  Besides  this  Council  of  seven  were  thirteen 
members  of  the  Idaho  House  of  Representatives, 
mostly  of  the  same  political  feather  with  the  Council, 
and  they  too  would  be  present  at  noon  to  receive 
their  pay.  How  Ballard  and  Hewley  came  to  be  a 
minority  of  two  is  a  simple  matter.  Only  twenty-five 
months  had  gone  since  Appomattox  Court- House. 
That  surrender  was  presently  followed  by  Johnston's 
to  Sherman,  at  Durhams  Station,  and  following  this 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  139 

the  various  Confederate  armies  in  Alabama,  or  across 
the  Mississippi,  or  wherever  they  happened  to  be,  had 
successively  surrendered — but  not  Price's  Left  Wing. 
There  was  the  wide  open  West  under  its  nose,  and  no 
Grant  or  Sherman  infesting  that  void.  Why  surren 
der  ?  Wingos,  Claibornes,  and  all,  they  melted  away. 
Price's  Left  Wing  sailed  into  the  prairie  and  passed 
below  the  horizon.  To  know  what  it  next  did  you 
must,  like  Ballard  or  Hewley,  pass  below  the  horizon 
yourself,  clean  out  of  sight  of  the  dome  at  Washington 
to  remote,  untracked  Idaho.  There,  besides  wild  red 
men  in  quantities,  would  you  find  not  very  tame  white 
ones,  gentlemen  of  the  ripest  Southwestern  persua 
sion,  and  a  Legislature  to  fit.  And  if,  like  Ballard  or 
Hewley,  you  were  a  Union  man,  and  the  President  of 
the  United  States  had  appointed  you  Governor  or 
Secretary  of  such  a  place,  your  days  would  be  full  of 
awkwardness,  though  your  difference  in  creed  might 
not  hinder  you  from  playing  draw-poker  with  the  un 
reconstructed.  These  Missourians  were  whole-souled, 
ample-natured  males  in  many  ways,  but  born  with  a 
habit  of  hasty  shooting.  The  Governor,  on  setting 
foot  in  Idaho,  had  begun  to  study  pistolship,  but  ac 
quired  thus  in  middle  life  it  could  never  be  with  him 
that  spontaneous  art  which  it  was  with  Price's  Left 
Wing.  Not  that  the  weapons  now  lying  loose  about 
the  State-House  were  brought  for  use  there.  Every 
body  always  went  armed  in  Boise,  as  the  gravestones 
impliedly  testified.  Still,  the  thought  of  the  bad  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  which  it  might  come  to  at  noon  did 
cross  Ballard's  mind,  raising  the  image  of  a  column 
in  the  morrow's  paper :  "  An  unfortunate  occurrence 
has  ended  relations  between  esteemed  gentlemen 
hitherto  the  warmest  personal  friends.  .  .  .  They  will 


140  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE! 

be  laid  to  rest  at  3  P.M.  ...  As  a  last  token  of  re 
spect  for  our  lamented  Governor,  the  troops  from 
Boise*  Barracks.  ..."  The  Governor  trusted  that  if 
his  friends  at  the  post  were  to  do  him  any  service  it 
would  not  be  a  funeral  one. 

The  new  pitcher  of  toddy  came  from  the  Overland, 
the  jack-pots  continued,  were  nearing  a  finish,  and 
Ballard  began  to  wonder  if  anything  had  befallen  a 
part  of  his  note  to  the  bar-tender,  an  enclosure  ad 
dressed  to  another  person. 

"Ha,  suh!"  said  Wingo  to  Hewley,  "My  pot 
again,  I  declah."  The  chips  had  been  crossing  the 
table  his  way,  and  he  was  now  loser  but  six  hundred 
dollars. 

"Ye  ain't  goin'to  whip  Mizzooruh  all  night  an'  all 
day,  ez  a  rule,"  observed  Pete  Cawthon,  Councillor 
from  Lost  Leg. 

"  'Tis  a  long  road  that  has  no  turnin',  Gove'nuh," 
said  F.  Jackson  Gilet,  more  urbanely.  He  had  been 
in  public  life  in  Missouri,  and  was  now  President  of 
the  Council  in  Idaho.  He,  too,  had  arrived  on  a 
mule,  but  could  at  will  summon  a  rhetoric  dating  from 
Cicero,  and  preserved  by  many  luxuriant  orators  un 
til  after  the  middle  of  the  present  century. 

"  True,"  said  the  Governor,  politely.  "  But  here 
sits  the  long-suffering  bank,  whichever  way  the  road 
turns.  "  I'm  sleepy." 

"You  sacrifice  yo'self  in  the  good  cause,"  replied 
Gilet,  pointing  to  the  poker  game.  "  Oneasy  lies  the 
head  that  wahs  an  office,  suh."  And  Gilet  bowed 
over  his  compliment. 

The  Governor  thought  so  indeed.  He  looked  at  the 
Treasurer's  strong-box,  where  lay  the  appropriation 
lately  made  by  Congress  to  pay  the  Idaho  Legislature 


THE   SECOND    MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  141 

for  its  services ;  and  he  looked  at  the  Treasurer,  in 
whose  pocket  lay  the  key  of  the  strong-box.  He  was 
accountable  to  the  Treasury  at  Washington  for  all 
money  disbursed  for  Territorial  expenses. 

"  Eleven  twenty,"  said  Wingo,  "  and  only  two  hands 
mo'  to  play." 

The  Governor  slid  out  his  own  watch. 

"  I'll  scahsely  recoup,"  said  Wingo. 

They  dealt  and  played  the  hand,  and  the  Governor 
strolled  to  the  window. 

"  Three  aces,"  Wingo  announced,  winning  again 
handsomely.  "  I  struck  my  luck  too  late,"  he  com 
mented  to  the  on-lookers.  While  losing  he  had  been 
able  to  sustain  a  smooth  reticence ;  now  he  gave  his 
thoughts  freely  to  the  company,  and  continually 
moved  and  fingered  his  increasing  chips.  The  Gov 
ernor  was  still  looking  out  of  the  window,  where  he 
could  see  far  up  the  street,  when  Wingo  won  the  last 
hand,  which  was  small.  "  That  ends  it,  suh,I  suppose  ?" 
he  said  to  Hewley,  letting  the  pack  of  cards  linger  in 
his  grasp. 

"  I  wouldn't  let  him  off  yet,"  said  Ballard  to  Wingo 
from  the  window,  with  sudden  joviality,  and  he  came 
back  to  the  players.  "  I'd  make  him  throw  five  cold 
hands  with  me." 

"  Ah,  Gove'nuh,  that's  yoh  spo'tin'  blood !  Will 
you  do  it,  Mistuh  Hewley — a  hun'red  a  hand  ?" 

Mr.  Hewley  did  it ;  and  winning  the  first,  he  lost 
the  second,  third,  and  fourth  in  the  space  of  an  eager 
minute,  while  the  Councillors  drew  their  chairs  close. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Wingo,  calculating,  "if  I  lose 
this — why  still — "  He  lost.  "  But  I'll  not  have  to 
ask  you  to  accept  my  papuh,  suh.  Wingo  liquidates. 
Fo'ty  days  at  six  dolluhs  a  day  makes  six  times  fo'  is 


142  RED   MEN   AND  WHITE 

twenty-fo' — two  hun'red  an'  fo'ty  dolluhs  spot  cash  in 
hand  at  noon,  without  computation  of  mileage  to  and 
from  Silver  City  at  fo'  dolluhs  every  twenty  miles,  es 
timated  according  to  the  nearest  usually  travelled 
route."  He  was  reciting  part  of  the  statute  providing 
mileage  for  Idaho  legislators.  He  had  never  served 
the  public  before,  and  he  knew  all  the  laws  concern 
ing  compensation  by  heart.  "  You'll  not  have  to  wait 
fo'  yoh  money,  suh,"  he  concluded. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Wingo,"  said  Governor  Ballard,  "  it  de 
pends  on  yourself  whether  your  pay  comes  to  you  or 
not."  He  spoke  cheerily.  "  If  you  don't  see  things 
my  way,  our  Treasurer  will  have  to  wait  for  his  mon 
ey."  He  had  not  expected  to  break  the  news  just  so, 
but  it  made  as  easy  a  beginning  as  any. 

"  See  things  yoh  way,  suh  ?" 

"  Yes.  As  it  stands  at  present  I  cannot  take  the 
responsibility  of  paying  you." 

"  The  United  States  pays  me,  suh.  My  compensa 
tion  is  provided  by  act  of  Congress." 

"  I  confess  I  am  unable  to  discern  your  responsibil 
ity,  Gove'nuh,"  said  F.  Jackson  Gilet.  "  Mr.  Wingo 
has  faithfully  attended  the  session,  and  is,  like  every 
gentleman  present,  legally  entitled  to  his  emolu 
ments." 

"  You  can  all  readily  become  entitled — " 

"All?  Am  I  —  are  my  friends  —  included  in  this 
new  depa'tyuh  ?" 

"  The  difficulty  applies  generally,  Mr.  Gilet." 

"  Do  I  understand  the  Gove'nuh  to  insinuate — nay, 
gentlemen,  do  not  rise !  Be  seated,  I  beg."  For  the 
Councillors  had  leaped  to  their  feet. 

"  Whar's  our  money  ?"  said  Pete  Cawthon.  "  Our 
money  was  put  in  thet  yere  box." 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI  COMPROMISE  143 

* 

Ballard  flushed  angrily,  but  a  knock  at  the  door 
stopped  him,  and  he  merely  said,  "  Come  in." 

A  trooper,  a  corporal,  stood  at  the  entrance,  and 
the  disordered  Council  endeavored  to  look  usual  in  a 
stranger's  presence.  They  resumed  their  seats,  but 
it  was  not  easy  to  look  usual  on  such  short  notice. 

"  Captain  Paisley's  compliments,"  said  the  soldier, 
mechanically,  "  and  will  Governor  Ballard  take  supper 
with  him  this  evening  ?" 

"  Thank  Captain  Paisley,"  said  the  Governor  (his 
tone  was  quite  usual),  "  and  say  that  official  business 
connected  with  the  end  of  the  session  makes  it  im 
perative  for  me  to  be  at  the  State-House.  Impera 
tive." 

The  trooper  withdrew.  He  was  a  heavy-built, 
handsome  fellow,  with  black  mustache  and  black  eyes 
that  watched  through  two  straight,  narrow  slits  be 
neath  straight  black  brows.  His  expression  in  the 
Council  Chamber  had  been  of  the  regulation  military 
indifference,  and  as  he  went  down  the  steps  he  irrel 
evantly  sang  an  old  English  tune  : 

' ' '  Since  first  I  saw  your  face  I  resolved 
To  honor  and  re — ' 

I  guess,"  he  interrupted  himself  as  he  unhitched  his 
horse,  "  parrot  and  monkey  hev  broke  loose." 

The  Legislature,  always  in  its  shirt  -  sleeves,  the 
cards  on  the  table,  and  the  toddy  on  the  floor,  sat 
calm  a  moment,  cooled  by  this  brief  pause  from  the 
first  heat  of  its  surprise,  while  the  clatter  of  Corporal 
Jones's  galloping  shrank  quickly  into  silence. 


144  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 


II 

CAPTAIN  PAISLEY  walked  slowly  from  the  adjutant's 
office  at  Boise*  Barracks  to  his  quarters,  and  his 
orderly  walked  behind  him.  The  captain  carried  a 
letter  in  his  hand,  and  the  orderly,  though  distant  a 
respectful  ten  paces,  could  hear  him  swearing  plain 
as  day.  When  he  reached  his  front  door  Mrs.  Paisley 
met  him. 

"  Jim,"  cried  she,  "  two  more  chickens  froze  in  the 
night."  And  the  delighted  orderly  heard  the  captain 
so  plainly  that  he  had  to  blow  his  nose  or  burst. 

The  lady,  merely  remarking  "  My  goodness,  Jim," 
retired  immediately  to  the  kitchen,  where  she  had  a 
soldier  cook  baking,  and  feared  he  was  not  quite 
sober  enough  to  do  it  alone.  The  captain  had  paid 
eighty  dollars  for  forty  hens  this  year  at  Boisd,  and 
twenty-nine  had  now  passed  away,  victims  to  the 
climate.  His  wise  wife  perceived  his  extreme  lan 
guage  not  to  have  been  all  on  account  of  hens,  how 
ever  ;  but  he  never  allowed  her  to  share  in  his  pro 
fessional  worries,  so  she  stayed  safe  with  the  baking, 
and  he  sat  in  the  front  room  with  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth. 

Boise7  was  a  two-company  post  without  a  major,  and 
Paisley,  being  senior  captain,  was  in  command,  an  office 
to  which  he  did  not  object.  But  his  duties  so  far  this 
month  of  May  had  not  pleased  him  in  the  least. 
Theoretically,  you  can  have  at  a  two-company  post 
the  following  responsible  people  :  one  major,  two  cap 
tains,  four  lieutenants,  a  doctor,  and  a  chaplain.  The 
major  has  been  spoken  of ;  it  is  almost  needless  to 
say  that  the  chaplain  was  on  leave,  and  had  never 


THE   SECOND    MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  145 

been  seen  at  Boise'  by  any  of  the  present  garrison ; 
two  of  the  lieutenants  were  also  on  leave,  and  two  on 
surveying  details — they  had  influence  at  Washington ; 
the  other  captain  was  on  a  scout  with  General  Crook 
somewhere  near  the  Malheur  Agency,  and  the  doctor 
had  only  arrived  this  week.  There  had  resulted  a 
period  when  Captain  Paisley  was  his  own  adjutant, 
quartermaster,  and  post  surgeon,  with  not  even  an 
efficient  sergeant  to  rely  upon  ;  and  during  this  period 
his  wife  had  stayed  a  good  deal  in  the  kitchen.  Happily 
the  doctor's  coming  had  given  relief  to  the  hospital 
steward  and  several  patients,  and  to  the  captain  not 
only  an  equal,  but  an  old  friend,  with  whom  to  pour 
out  his  disgust ;  and  together  every  evening  they 
freely  expressed  their  opinion  of  the  War  Department 
and  its  treatment  of  the  Western  army. 

There  were  steps  at  the  door,  and  Paisley  hurried 
out.  "  Only  you !"  he  exclaimed,  with  such  frank 
vexation  that  the  doctor  laughed  loudly.  "  Come  in, 
man,  come  in,"  Paisley  continued,  leading  him  strongly 
by  the  arm,  sitting  him  down,  and  giving  him  a  cigar. 
"  Here's  a  pretty  how  de  do !" 

"  More  Indians  !"  inquired  Dr.  Tuck. 

"Bother!  they're  nothing.  It's  Senators — Council 
lors — whatever  the  Territorial  devils  call  themselves." 

"Gone  on  the  war-path?"  the  doctor  said,  quite 
ignorant  how  nearly  he  had  touched  the  Council. 

"  Precisely,  man.  War-path.  Here's  the  Governor 
writing  me  they'll  be  scalping  him  in  the  State-House 
at  twelve  o'clock.  It's  past  11.30.  They'll  be  whet 
ting  knives  about  now."  And  the  captain  roared. 

"  I  know  you  haven't  gone  crazy,"  said  the  doctor, 
"but  who  has?" 

"  The  lot  of  them.     Ballard's  a  good  man,  and — - 


146  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

what's  his  name  ? — the  little  Secretary.  The  balance 
are  just  mad  dogs — mad  dogs.  Look  here :  '  Dear 
Captain' — that's  Ballard  to  me.  I  just  got  it — 'I 
find  myself  unexpectedly  hampered  this  morning. 
The  South  shows  signs  of  being  too  solid.  Unless 
I  am  supported,  my  plan  for  bringing  our  Legislature 
to  terms  will  have  to  be  postponed.  Hewley  and  I 
are  more  likely  to  be  brought  to  terms  ourselves — a 
bad  precedent  to  establish  in  Idaho.  Noon  is  the 
hour  for  drawing  salaries.  Ask  me  to  supper  as 
quick  as  you  can,  and  act  on  my  reply.'  I've  asked 
him,"  continued  Paisley,  "but  I  haven't  told  Mrs. 
Paisley  to  cook  anything  extra  yet."  The  captain 
paused  to  roar  again,  shaking  Tuck's  shoulder  for 
sympathy.  Then  he  explained  the  situation  in  Idaho 
to  the  justly  bewildered  doctor.  Ballard  had  confided 
many  of  his  difficulties  lately  to  Paisley. 

"  He  means  you're  to  send  troops  ?"  Tuck  inquired. 

"  What  else  should  the  poor  man  mean  ?" 

"  Are  you  sure  it's  constitutional  ?" 

"  Hang  constitutional !  What  do  I  know  about 
their  legal  quibbles  at  Washington  ?" 

"  But,  Paisley—" 

"They're  unsurrendered  rebels,  I  tell  you.  Never 
signed  a  parole." 

"  But  the  general  amnesty — " 

"  Bother  general  amnesty  !  Ballard  represents  the 
Federal  government  in  this  Territory,  and  Uncle 
Sam's  army  is  here  to  protect  the  Federal  government. 
If  Ballard  calls  on  the  army  it's  our  business  to  obey, 
and  if  there's  any  mistake  in  judgment  it's  Ballard's, 
not  mine."  Which  was  sound  soldier  common-sense, 
and  happened  to  be  equally  good  law.  This  is  not 
always  the  case. 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  147 

"  You  haven't  got  any  force  to  send,"  said  Tuck. 

This  was  true.  General  Crook  had  taken  with  him 
both  Captain  Sinclair's  infantry  and  the  troop  (or 
company,  as  cavalry  was  also  then  called)  of  the 
First. 

"A  detail  of  five  or  six  with  a  reliable  non-com 
missioned  officer  will  do  to  remind  them  it's  the 
United  States  they're  bucking  against,"  said  Paisley. 
"There's  a  deal  in  the  moral  of  these  things. 
Crook — "  Paisley  broke  off  and  ran  to  the  door. 
"  Hold  his  horse  !"  he  called  out  to  the  orderly ;  for 
he  had  heard  the  hoofs,  and  was  out  of  the  house 
before  Corporal  Jones  had  fairly  arrived.  So  Jones 
sprang  off  and  hurried  up,  saluting.  He  delivered 
his  message. 

"Urn — umpra — what's  that?  Is  it  imperative  you 
mean  ?"  suggested  Paisley. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jones,  reforming  his  pronunciation 
of  that  unaccustomed  word.  "  He  said  it  twiced." 

"  What  were  they  doing  ?" 

"Blamed  if  I — beg  the  captain's  pardon — they 
looked  like  they  was  waitin'  fer  me  to  git  out." 

"  Go  on — go  on.     How  many  were  there?" 

"  Seven,  sir.  There  was  Governor  Ballard  and  Mr. 
Hewley  and  —  well,  them's  all  the  names  I  know. 
But,"  Jones  hastened  on  with  eagerness,  "  I've  saw 
them  five  other  fellows  before  at  a — at — "  The  cor 
poral's  voice  failed,  and  he  stood  looking  at  the 
captain. 

"Well?    Where?" 

"  At  a  cock-fight,  sir,"  murmured  Jones,  casting  his 
eyes  down. 

A  slight  sound  came  from  the  room  where  Tuck 
was  seated,  listening,  and  Paisley's  round  gray  eyes 


I48  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

rolled  once,  then  steadied  themselves  fiercely  upon 
Jones. 

"Did  you  notice  anything  further  unusual,  cor 
poral?" 

"No,  sir,  except  they  was  excited  in  there.  Looked 
like  they  might  be  goin'  to  hev  considerable  rough 
house — a  fuss,  I  mean,  sir.  Two  was  in  their  socks. 
I  counted  four  guns  on  a  table." 

"  Take  five  men  and  go  at  once  to  the  State-House. 
If  the  Governor  needs  assistance  you  will  give  it,  but 
do  nothing  hasty.  Stop  trouble,  and  make  none. 
You've  got  twenty  minutes." 

"  Captain — if  anybody  needs  arrestin' — " 

"You  must  be  judge  of  that."  Paisley  went. into 
the  house.  There  was  no  time  for  particulars. 

"  Snakes  !"  remarked  Jones.  He  jumped  on  his 
horse  and  dashed  down  the  slope  to  the  men's  quar 
ters. 

"  Crook  may  be  here  any  day  or  any  hour,"  said 
Paisley,  returning  to  the  doctor.  "With  two  compa 
nies  in  the  background,  I  think  Price's  Left  Wing  will 
subside  this  morning." 

"  Supposing  they  don't?" 

"  I'll  go  myself ;  and  when  it  gets  to  Washington 
that  the  commanding  officer  at  Boise'  personally  inter 
fered  with  the  Legislature  of  Idaho,  it  '11  shock  'em 
to  that  extent  that  the  government  will  have  to  pay 
for  a  special  commission  of  investigation  and  two 
tons  of  red  tape.  I've  got  to  trust  to  that  corporal's 
good  sense.  I  haven't  another  man  at  the  post." 

Corporal  Jones  had  three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  go, 
and  it  was  ten  minutes  before  noon,  so  he  started  his 
five  men  at  a  run.  His  plan  was  to  walk  and  look 
quiet  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  town,  and  thus  excite 


HIS    PLAN    WAS    TO    WALK    AND    KEEP    QUIET 


THE   SECOND    MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  149 

no  curiosity.  The  citizens  were  accustomed  to  the 
sight  of  passing  soldiers.  Jones  had  thought  out  sev 
eral  things,  and  he  was  not  going  to  order  bayonets 
fixed  until  the  final  necessary  moment.  "  Stop  trouble 
and  make  none  "  was  firm  in  his  mind.  He  had  not 
long  been  a  corporal.  It  was  still  his  first  enlistment. 
His  habits  were  by  no  means  exemplary;  and  his 
frontier  personality,  strongly  developed  by  six  years 
of  vagabonding  before  he  enlisted,  was  scarcely  yet 
disciplined  into  the  military  machine  of  the  regulation 
pattern  that  it  should  and  must  become  before  he 
could  be  counted  a  model  soldier.  His  captain  had 
promoted  him  to  steady  him,  if  that  could  be,  and  to 
give  his  better  qualities  a  chance.  Since  then  he  had 
never  been  drunk  at  the  wrong  time.  Two  years  ago 
it  would  not  have  entered  his  free-lance  heart  to  be 
reticent  with  any  man,  high  or  low,  about  any  pleasure 
in  which  he  saw  fit  to  indulge ;  to-day  he  had  been  shy 
over  confessing  to  the  commanding  officer  his  leaning 
to  cock-fights — a  sign  of  his  approach  to  the  correct 
mental  attitude  of  the  enlisted  man.  Being  corporal 
had  wakened  in  him  a  new  instinct,  and  this  State- 
House  affair  was  the  first  chance  he  had  had  to  show 
himself.  He  gave  the  order  to  proceed  at  a  walk  in 
such  a  tone  that  one  of  the  troopers  whispered  to  an 
other,  "  Specimen  ain't  going  to  forget  he's  wearing  a 
chevron." 


Ill 

THE  brief  silence  that  Jones  and  his  invitation  to 
supper  had  caused  among  the  Councillors  was  first 
broken  by  F.  Jackson  Gilet. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "as  President  of  the  Council 


150  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

I  rejoice  in  an  interruption  that  has  given  pause  to  our 
haste  and  saved  us  from  ill-considered  expressions  of 
opinion.  The  Gove'nuh  has,  I  confess,  surprised  me. 
Befo'  examining  the  legal  aspect  of  our  case  I  will  ask 
the  Gove'nuh  if  he  is  familiar  with  the  sundry  statutes 
applicable." 

"I  think  so,"  Ballard  replied,  pleasantly. 

"  I  had  supposed,"  continued  the  President  of  the 
Council — "nay,  I  had  congratulated  myself  that  our 
weightiuh  tasks  of  law-making  and  so  fo'th  were  con 
summated  yesterday,  our  thirty-ninth  day,  and  that  our 
friendly  game  of  last  night  would  be,  as  it  were,  the 
finis  that  crowned  with  pleashuh  the  work  of  a  session 
memorable  for  its  harmony." 

This  was  not  wholly  accurate,  but  near  enough. 
The  Governor  had  vetoed  several  bills,  but  Price's 
Left  Wing  had  had  much  more  than  the  required  two- 
thirds  vote  of  both  Houses  to  make  these  bills  laws 
over  the  Governor's  head.  This  may  be  called  har 
mony  in  a  manner.  Gilet  now  went  on  to  say  that 
any  doubts  which  the  Governor  entertained  concerning 
the  legality  of  his  paying  any  salaries  could  easily  be 
settled  without  entering  upon  discussion.  Discussion 
at  such  a  juncture  could  not  but  tend  towards  infor 
mality.  The  President  of  the  Council  could  well  re 
member  most  unfortunate  discussions  in  Missouri  be 
tween  the  years  1856  and  1860,  in  some  of  which  he 
had  had  the  honor  to  take  part  -minima  pars,  gentle 
men  !  Here  he  digressed  elegantly  upon  civil  dissen 
sions,  and  Ballard,  listening  to  him  and  marking  the 
slow,  sure  progress  of  the  hour,  told  himself  that  nev 
er  before  had  Gilet's  oratory  seemed  more  welcome  or 
less  lengthy.  A  plan  had  come  to  him,  the  orator 
next  announced,  a  way  out  of  the  present  dilemma, 


THE   SECOND    MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  151 

simple  and  regular  in  every  aspect.  Let  some  gentle 
man  present  now  kindly  draft  a  bill  setting  forth  in  its 
preamble  the  acts  of  Congress  providing  for  the  Leg 
islature's  compensation,  and  let  this  bill  in  conclusion 
provide  that  all  members  immediately  receive  the  full 
amount  due  for  their  services.  At  noon  both  Houses 
would  convene ;  they  would  push  back  the  clock,  and 
pass  this  bill  before  the  term  of  their  session  should 
expire. 

"  Then,  Gove'nuh,"  said  Gilet,  "  you  can  amply  vin 
dicate  yo'self  by  a  veto,  which,  together  with  our  votes 
on  reconsideration  of  yoh  objections,  will  be  reco'ded 
in  the  journal  of  our  proceedings,  and  copies  transmit 
ted  to  Washington  within  thirty  days  as  required  by 
law.  Thus,  suh,  will  you  become  absolved  from  all  re 
sponsibility." 

The  orator's  face,  while  he  explained  this  simple 
and  regular  way  out  of  the  dilemma,  beamed  with  acu 
men  and  statesmanship.  Here  they  would  make  a  law, 
and  the  Governor  must  obey  the  law ! 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  to  Ballard's  mind  as 
he  calculated  the  fleeting  minutes  than  this  peaceful, 
pompous  farce.  "  Draw  your  bill,  gentlemen,"  he  said. 
"I  would  not  object  if  I  could." 

The  Statutes  of  the  United  States  were  procured 
from  among  the  pistols  and  opened  at  the  proper  page. 
Gascon  Claiborne,  upon  another  sheet  of  paper  headed 
"  Territory  of  Idaho,  Council  Chamber,"  set  about  for 
mulating  some  phrases  which  began  "  Whereas,"  and 
Gratiot  des  Peres  read  aloud  to  him  from  the  statutes. 
Ballard  conversed  apart  with  Hewley ;  in  fact,  there 
was  much  conversing  aside. 

"'Third  March,  1863,  c.  117,  s.  8,  v.  12,  p.  811," 
dictated  Des  Peres. 


152  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  Skip  the  chaptuhs  and  sections,"  said  Claiborne. 
"We  only  require  the  date." 

"  «  Third  March,  1863.  The  sessions  of  the  Legis 
lative  Assemblies  of  the  several  Territories  of  the 
United  States  shall  be  limited  to  forty  days'  dura 
tion/  " 

"Wise  provision  that,"  whispered  Ballard.  "No 
telling  how  long  a  poker  game  might  last." 

But  Hewley  could  not  take  anything  in  this  spirit. 
"Genuine  business  was  not  got  through  till  yesterday," 
he  said. 

"'The  members  of  each  branch  of  the  Legislature,'  " 
read  Des  Peres,  "  *  shall  receive  a  compensation  of  six 
dollars  per  day  during  the  sessions  herein  provided 
for,  and  they  shall  receive  such  mileage  as  now  pro 
vided  by  law :  Provided,  That  the  President  of  the 
Council  and  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  shall  each  receive  a  compensation  of  ten  dollars 
a  day.'  " 

At  this  the  President  of  the  Council  waved  a  depre 
catory  hand  to  signify  that  it  was  a  principle,  not  prof 
it,  for  which  he  battled.  They  had  completed  their 
Whereases,  incorporating  the  language  of  the  several 
sections  as  to  how  the  appropriation  should  be  made, 
who  disbursed  such  money,  mileage,  and,  in  short,  all 
things  pertinent  to  their  bill,  when  Pete  Cawthon  made 
a  suggestion. 

"  Ain't  there  anything  'bout  how  much  the  Gove'nuh 
gits  ?"  he  asks. 

"  And  the  Secretary  ?"  added  Wingo. 

"Oh,  you  can  leave  us  out,"  said  Ballard. 

"  Pardon  me,  Gove'nuh,"  said  Gilet.  "  You  stated 
that  yoh  difficulty  was  not  confined  to  Mr.  Wingo  or 
any  individual  gentleman,  but  was  general.  Does  it 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  153 

not  apply  to  yo'self,  suh  ?  Do  you  not  need  any 
bill?" 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Ballard,  laughing.  "  I  don't  need 
any  bill." 

"And  why  not?"  said  Cawthon.  "You've  jist  ez 
much  earned  yoh  money  ez  us  fellers." 

"Quite  as  much,"  said  Ballard.  "But  we're  not 
alike — at  present." 

Gilet  grew  very  stately.  "Except  certain  differ 
ences  in  political  opinions,  suh,  I  am  not  awah  of  how 
we  differ  in  merit  as  public  servants  of  this  Territory." 

"The  difference  is  of  your  own  making,  Mr.  Gilet, 
and  no  bill  you  could  frame  would  cure  it  or  destroy 
my  responsibility.  You  cannot  make  any  law  contrary 
to  a  law  of  the  United  States." 

"  Contrary  to  a  law  of  the  United  States  ?  And 
what,  suh,  has  the  United  States  to  say  about  my  pay 
I  have  earned  in  Idaho  ?" 

"  Mr.  Gilet,  there  has  been  but  one  government  in 
this  country  since  April,  1865,  and  as  friends  you  and  I 
have  often  agreed  to  differ  as  to  how  many  there  were 
before  then.  That  government  has  a  law  compelling 
people  like  you  and  me  to  go  through  a  formality, 
which  I  have  done,  and  you  and  your  friends  have  re 
fused  to  do  each  time  it  has  been  suggested  to  you.  I 
have  raised  no  point  until  now,  having  my  reasons, 
which  were  mainly  that  it  would  make  less  trouble 
now  for  the  Territory  of  which  I  have  been  appointed 
Governor.  I  am  held  accountable  to  the  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury  semiannually  for  the  manner  in  which 
the  appropriation  has  been  expended.  If  you  will 
kindly  hand  me  that  book — " 

Gilet,  more  and  more  stately,  handed  Ballard  the 
Statutes,  which  he  had  taken  from  Des  Peres.  The 


154  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

others  were  watching  Ballard  with  gathering  sullen- 
ness,  as  they  had  watched  Hewley  while  he  was  win 
ning  Wingo's  money,  only  now  the  sullenness  was  of  a 
more  decided  complexion. 

Ballard  turned  the  pages.  " '  Second  July,  1862. 
Every  person  elected  or  appointed  to  any  office  of 
honor  or  profit,  either  in  the  civil,  military,  or  naval  ser 
vice,  .  .  .  shall,  before  entering  upon  the  duties  of  such 
office,  and  before  being  entitled  to  any  salary  or  other 
emoluments  thereof,  take  and  subscribe  the  following 
oath:  I— "' 

"  What  does  this  mean,  suh  ?"  said  Gilet. 

"  It  means  there  is  no  difference  in  our  positions  as 
to  what  preliminaries  the  law  requires  of  us,  no  matter 
how  we  may  vary  in  convictions.  I  as  Governor  have 
taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United  States,  and 
you  as  Councillor  must  do  the  same  before  you  can  get 
your  pay.  Look  at  the  book." 

"  I  decline,  suh.  I  repudiate  yoh  proposition. 
There  is  a  wide  difference  in  our  positions." 

"What  do  you  understand  it  to  be,  Mr.  Gilet?" 
Ballard's  temper  was  rising. 

"  If  you  have  chosen  to  take  an  oath  that  did  not 
go  against  yoh  convictions — " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Gilet !"  said  Ballard,  smiling.  "  Look  at 
the  book."  He  would  not  risk  losing  his  temper 
through  further  discussion.  He  would  stick  to  the  law 
as  it  lay  open  before  them. 

But  the  Northern  smile  sent  Missouri  logic  to  the 
winds.  "  In  what  are  you  superior  to  me,  suh,  that  I 
cannot  choose  ?  Who  are  you  that  I  and  these  gen 
tlemen  must  take  oaths  befo'  you  ?" 

"Not  before  me.     Look  at  the  book." 

"  I'll  look  at  no  book,  suh.     Do  you  mean  to  tell 


THE   SECOND   MISSOURI   COMPROMISE  155 

me  you  have  seen  me  day  aftuh  day  and  meditated 
this  treacherous  attempt?" 

"  There  is  no  attempt  and  no  treachery,  Mr.  Gilet. 
You  could  have  taken  the  oath  long  ago,  like  other 
officials.  You  can  take  it  to-day — or  take  the  conse 
quences." 

"  What  ?  You  threaten  me,  suh  ?  Do  I  understand 
you  to  threaten  me  ?  Gentlemen  of  the  Council,  it 
seems  Idaho  will  be  less  free  than  Missouri  unless  we 
look  to  it."  The  President  of  the  Council  had  risen  in 
his  indignant  oratorical  might,  and  his  more  and  more 
restless  friends  glared  admiration  at  him.  "  When 
was  the  time  that  Price's  Left  Wing  surrendered?" 
asked  the  orator.  "  Nevuh  !  Others  have,  be  it  said 
to  their  shame.  We  have  not  toiled  these  thousand 
miles  fo'  that !  Others  have  crooked  the  pliant  hinges 
of  the  knee  that  thrift  might  follow  fawning.  As  fo' 
myself,  two  grandfathers  who  fought  fo'  our  libuhties 
rest  in  the  soil  of  Virginia,  and  two  uncles  who  fought 
in  the  Revolution  sleep  in  the  land  of  the  Dark  and 
Bloody  Ground.  With  such  blood  in  my  veins  I  will 
nevuh,  nevuh,  nevuh  submit  to  Northern  rule  and  dic 
tation.  I  will  risk  all  to  be  with  the  Southern  people, 
and  if  defeated  I  can,  with  a  patriot  of  old,  exclaim, 

"  '  More  true  joy  an  exile  feels 

,     Than  Caesuh  with  a  Senate  at  ftis  heels.' 

Aye,  gentlemen  !  And  we  will  not  be  defeated  !  Our 
rights  are  here  and  are  ours."  He  stretched  his  arm 
towards  the  Treasurer's  strong-box,  and  his  enthusias 
tic  audience  rose  at  the  rhetoric.  "  Contain  yo'selves, 
gentlemen,"  said  the  orator.  "Twelve  o'clock  and 
our  bill !" 

"  I've  said  my  say,"  said  Ballard,  remaining  seated. 


156  RED   MEN   AND  WHITE 

"  An'  what  '11  ye  do  ?"  inquired  Pete  Cawthon  from 
the  agitated  group. 

"  I  forbid  you  to  touch  that !"  shouted  Ballard.  He 
saw  Wingo  moving  towards  the  box. 

"  Gentlemen,  do  not  resort — "  began  Gilet. 

But  small,  iron-gray  Hewley  snatched  his  pistol 
from  the  box,  and  sat  down  astraddle  of  it,  guarding 
his  charge.  At  this  hostile  movement  the  others  pre 
cipitated  themselves  towards  the  table  where  lay  their 
weapons,  and  Governor  Ballard,  whipping  his  own 
from  his  armhole,  said,  as  he  covered  the  table  :  "  Go 
easy,  gentlemen  !  Don't  hurt  our  Treasurer  !" 

"  Don't  nobody  hurt  anybody,"  said  Specimen  Jones, 
opening  the  door. 

This  prudent  corporal  had  been  looking  in  at  a  win 
dow  and  hearing  plainly  for  the  past  two  minutes,  and 
he  had  his  men  posted.  Each  member  of  the  Council 
stopped  as  he  stood,  his  pistol  not  quite  yet  attained ; 
Ballard  restored  his  own  to  its  armhole  and  sat  in  his 
chair;  little  Hewley  sat  on  his  box;  and  F.  Jackson 
Gilet  towered  haughtily,  gazing  at  the  intruding  blue 
uniform  of  the  United  States. 

"  I'll  hev  to  take  you  to  the  commanding  officer," 
said  Jones,  briefly,  to  Hewley.  "  You  and  yer  box." 

"  Oh,  my  stars  and  stripes,  but  that's  a  keen  move  !" 
rejoiced  Ballard  to  himself.  "  He's  arresting  us" 

In  Jones's  judgment,  after  he  had  taken  in  the 
situation,  this  had  seemed  the  only  possible  way  to 
stop  trouble  without  making  any,  and  therefore,  even 
now,  bayonets  were  not  fixed.  Best  not  ruffle  Price's 
Left  Wing  just  now,  if  you  could  avoid  it.  For  a  new 
corporal  it  was  well  thought  and  done.  But  it  was 
high  noon,  the  clock  not  pushed  back,  and  punctual 
Representatives  strolling  innocently  towards  their  ex- 


THE   SECOND    MISSOURI    COMPROMISE  157 

pected  pay.  There  must  be  no  time  for  a  gathering 
and  possible  reaction.  "  I'll  hev  to  clear  this  State- 
House  out,"  Jones  decided.  "  We're  makin'  an  arrest," 
he  said,  aloud,  "and  we  want  a  little  room."  The 
outside  bystanders  stood  back  obediently,  but  the 
Councillors  delayed.  Their  pistols  were,  with  Bal- 
lard's  and  Hewley's,  of  course  in  custody.  "  Here," 
said  Jones,  restoring  them.  "  Go  home  now.  The 
commanding  officer's  waitin'  fer  the  prisoner.  Put 
yer  boots  on,  sir,  and  leave,"  he  added  to  Pete  Caw- 
thon,  who  still  stood  in  his  stockings.  "  I  don't  want 
to  hev  to  disperse  anybody  more'n  what  I've  done." 

Disconcerted  Price's  Left  Wing  now  saw  file  out 
between  armed  soldiers  the  Treasurer  and  his  strong 
box;  and  thus  guarded  they  were  brought  to  Boisd 
Barracks,  whence  they  did  not  reappear.  The  Gov 
ernor  also  went  to  the  post. 

After  delivering  Hewley  and  his  treasure  to  the 
commanding  officer,  Jones  with  his  five  troopers  went 
to  the  sutler's  store  and  took  a  drink  at  Jones's  ex 
pense.  Then  one  of  them  asked  the  corporal  to  have 
another.  But  Jones  refused.  "  If  a  man  drinks  much 
of  that,"  said  he  (and  the  whiskey  certainly  was  of  a 
livid,  unlikely  flavor),  "he's  liable  to  go  home  and 
steal  his  own  pants."  He  walked  away  to  his  quarters, 
and  as  he  went  they  heard  him  thoughtfully  humming 
his  most  inveterate  song,  "  Ye  shepherds  tell  me  have 
you  seen  my  Flora  pass  this  way." 

But  poisonous  whiskey  was  not  the  inner  reason 
for  his  moderation.  He  felt  very  much  like  a  re 
sponsible  corporal  to-day,  and  the  troopers  knew  it. 
"Jones  has  done  himself  a  good  turn  in  this  fuss," 
they  said.  "  He'll  be  changing  his  chevron." 

That  afternoon  the  Legislature  sat  in  the  State- 


158  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

House  and  read  to  itself  in  the  Statutes  all  about  oaths. 
It  is  not  believed  that  any  of  them  sat  up  another 
night;  sleeping  on  a  problem  is  often  much  better. 
Next  morning  the  commanding  officer  and  Governor 
Ballard  were  called  upon  by  F.  Jackson  Gilet  and  the 
Speaker  of  the  House.  Every  one  was  civil  and  hearty 
as  possible.  Gilet  pronounced  the  captain's  whiskey 
"  equal  to  any  at  the  Southern,  Saint  Louey,"  and 
conversed  for  some  time  about  the  cold  season,  Gen 
eral  Crook's  remarkable  astuteness  in  dealing  with 
Indians,  and  other  topics  of  public  interest.  "  And 
concernin'  yoh  difficulty  yesterday,  Gove'nuh,"  said 
he,  "  I've  been  consulting  the  laws,  suh,  and  I  per 
ceive  yoh  construction,  is  entahley  correct." 

And  so  the  Legislature  signed  that  form  of  oath 
prescribed  for  participants  in  the  late  Rebellion,  and 
Hewley  did  not  have  to  wait  for  his  poker  money. 
He  and  Wingo  played  many  subsequent  games ;  for, 
as  they  all  said  in  referring  to  the  matter,  "  A  little 
thing  like  that  should  nevuh  stand  between  friends." 

Thus  was  accomplished  by  Ballard,  Paisley — and 
Jones — the  Second  Missouri  Compromise,  at  Boise 
City,  Idaho,  1867 — an  eccentric  moment  in  the  eccen 
tric  years  of  our  development  westward,  and  historic 
also.  That  it  has  gone  unrecorded  until  now  is  be 
cause  of  Ballard' s  modesty,  Paisley's  preference  for  the 
sword,  and  Jones's  hatred  of  the  pen.  He  was  never 
known  to  write  except,  later,  in  the  pages  of  his  com 
pany  roster  and  such  unavoidable  official  places;  for 
the  troopers  were  prophetic.  In  not  many  months  there 
was  no  longer  a  Corporal  Jones,  but  a  person  widely 
known  as  Sergeant  Jones  of  Company  A ;  called  also 
the  "  Singing  Sergeant "  ;  but  still  familiar  to  his  inti 
mate  friends  as  "  Specimen." 


LA  TINAJA    BONITA 

"  And  it  came  to  pass  after  a  while  that  the  brook  dried  up, 
because  there  had  been  no  rain  in  the  land." — I  Kings  xvii.  7. 

A  PRETTY  girl  was  kneeling  on  the  roof  of  a  flat 
mud  cabin,  a  harvest  of  red  peppers  round  her  knees. 
On  the  ground  below  her  stood  a  swarthy  young  man, 
the  bloom  on  his  Mexican  cheeks  rich  and  dusky,  like 
her  own.  His  face  was  irresponsible  and  winning,  and 
his  watching  eyes  shone  upon  her  with  admiration  and 
desire.  She  on  the  roof  was  entertained  by  her  visit 
or's  attention,  but  unfavorable  to  it.  Through  the  live 
long  sunny  day  she  had  parried  his  love-talk  with  light 
and  complete  skill,  enjoying  herself,  and  liking  him 
very  well,  as  she  had  done  since  they  were  two  chil 
dren  playing  together  in  the  Arizona  desert.  She  was 
quite  mistress  of  the  situation,  because  she  was  a  wom 
an,  and  he  as  yet  merely  a  boy ;  he  was  only  twenty- 
two ;  she  was  almost  sixteen.  The  Mexican  man  at 
twenty-two  may  be  as  experienced  as  his  Northern 
brother  of  thirty,  but  at  sixteen  the  Mexican  woman  is 
also  mature,  and  can  competently  deal  with  the  man. 
So  this  girl  had  relished  the  thoughtless  morning  and 
noon  as  they  passed  ;  but  twice  lately  she  had  glanced 
across  the  low  tree-tops  of  her  garden  down  the  trail, 
where  the  canon  descended  to  the  silent  plain  below. 


160  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  I  think  I  must  go  back  now,"  said  the  young  man, 
not  thinking  so.  He  had  a  guitar  from  the  cabin. 

"  Oh  !"  said  she,  diverted  by  his  youthful  feint. 
"  Well,  if  you  think  it  is  so  late."  She  busied  herself 
with  the  harvest.  Her  red  handkerchief  and  strands 
of  her  black  hair  had  fallen  loosely  together  from  her 
head  to  her  shoulders.  The  red  peppers  were  heaped 
thick,  hiding  the  whole  roof,  and  she  stooped  among 
them,  levelling  them  to  a  ripening  layer  with  buckskin 
gloves  (for  peppers  sting  sharper  than  mustard),  sort 
ing  and  turning  them  in  the  bright  sun.  The  boy 
looked  at  her  most  wistfully. 

"  It  is  not  precisely  late — yet,"  said  he. 

"  To  be  sure  not,"  she  assented,  consulting  the  sky. 
"  We  have  still  three  hours  of  day." 

He  brightened  as  he  lounged  against  a  water-barrel. 
"But  after  night  it  is  so  very  dark  on  the  trail  to 
camp,"  he  insincerely  objected. 

"  I  never  could  have  believed  you  were  afraid  of  the 
dark." 

"  It  is  for  the  horse's  legs,  Lolita.  Of  course  I  fear 
nothing." 

"  Bueno  !  I  was  sure  of  it.  Do  you  know,  Luis, 
you  have  become  a  man  quite  suddenly  ?  That  mus 
tache  will  be  beautiful  in  a  few  years.  And  you  have 
a  good  figure." 

"  I  am  much  heavier  than  last  year,"  said  he.  "  My 
arm—" 

"  I  can  see,  I  can  see.  I  am  not  sure  I  shall  let  you 
kiss  me  any  more.  You  didn't  offer  to  when  you  came 
this  morning — and  that  shows  you  men  perceive  things 
more  quickly  than  we  can.  But  don't  go  yet.  You 
can  lead  your  horse.  His  legs  will  come  to  no  harm, 
eased  of  your  weight.  I  should  have  been  lonely  to- 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  l6l 

day,  and  you  have  made  it  pass  so  quickly.  You 
have  talked  so  much  that  my  peppers  are  not  half 
spread." 

"  We  could  finish  them  in  five  minutes  together," 
said  the  youth,  taking  a  step. 

"  Two  up  here  among  all  these  peppers  !  Oh  no, 
Luis.  We  should  tread  on  them,  and  our  ankles 
would  burn  all  night.  If  you  want  to  help  me,  go 
bring  some  fresh  water.  The  barrel  is  almost  empty." 

But  Luis  stood  ardently  gazing  up  at  the  roof. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Lolita.  "  If  you  like  this 
better,  finish  the  peppers,  and  I'll  go  for  the  water." 

"  Why  do  you  look  down  the  trail  so  often  ?"  said 
the  baffled  love-maker,  petulantly. 

"  Because  Uncle  Ramon  said  the  American  would 
be  coming  to-day,"  the  girl  replied,  softly. 

"Was  it  Uncle  Ramon  said  that?  He  told  you 
mat  ?" 

"Why  not?"  She  shaded  her  eyes,  and  looked 
where  the  canon's  widening  slit  gave  view  of  a  slant 
of  sand  merging  fan-spread  into  a  changeless  waste  of 
plain.  Many  watercourses,  crooked  and  straight,  came 
out  of  the  gaps,  creasing  the  sudden  Sierra,  descend 
ing  to  the  flat  through  bushes  and  leaning  margin 
trees  ;  but  in  these  empty  shapes  not  a  rill  tinkled  to 
refresh  the  silence,  nor  did  a  drop  slide  over  the  glar 
ing  rocks,  or  even  dampen  the  heated,  cheating  sand. 
Lolita  strained  her  gaze  at  the  dry  distance,  and 
stooped  again  to  her  harvest. 

"  What  does  he  come  here  for  ?"  demanded  Luis. 

"  The  American  ?  We  buy  white  flour  of  him  some 
times." 

"  Sometimes  !  That  must  be  worth  his  while  !  He 
will  get  rich !"  Luis  lounged  back  against  his  water- 


162  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

barrel,  and  was  silent.  As  he  watched  Lolita,  serenely 
working,  his  silver  crescent  ear-rings  swung  a  little 
with  the  slight  tilting  of  his  head,  and  his  fingers,  for 
gotten  and  unguided  by  his  thoughts,  ruffled  the  strings 
of  the  guitar,  drawing  from  it  gay,  purposeless  tendrils 
of  sound.  Occasionally,  when  Lolita  knew  the  song, 
she  would  hum  it  on  the  roof,  inattentively,  busy  roll 
ing  her  peppers : 

"  '  Soy  purita  mejicana  ; 
Nada  tengo  espanol.'  " 

(I  am  a  pure  Mexican.  I  have  nothing  Spanish  about 
me.)  And  this  melodious  inattention  of  Lolita's  Luis 
felt  to  be  the  extreme  of  slight. 

"  Have  you  seen  him  lately  ?"  he  asked,  sourly. 

"  Not  very.  Not  since  the  last  time  he  came  to  the 
mines  from  Maricopa." 

"  I  heard  a  man  at  Gun  Sight  say  he  was  dead," 
snapped  Luis. 

But  she  made  no  sign.  "That  would  be  a  pity," 
she  said,  humming  gayly. 

"  Very  sad.  Uncle  Ramon  would  have  to  go  him 
self  to  Maricopa  for  that  white  flour." 

Pleased  with  this  remark,  the  youth  took  to  song 
himself;  and  there  they  were  like  two  mischievous 
birds.  Only  the  bird  on  the  ground  was  cross  with  a 
sense  of  failure.  "  El  telele  se  murid,"  he  sang. 

"  '  The  hunchback  is  dead. 
Ay  !     Ay  !     Ay  ! 
And  no  one  could  be  found  to  bury  him  except — ' " 

"  Luis,  aren't  you  going  to  get  my  water  for  me  ?" 
"  Poco  tiempo  :  I'll  bring  it  directly." 
"You  have  to  go  to  the  Tinaja  Bonita  for  it." 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  163 

The  Pretty  Spring — or  water-hole,  or  tank — was  half 
a  mile  from  the  cabin. 

"  Well,  it's  not  nice  out  there  in  the  sun.  I  like  it 
better  in  here,  where  it  is  pleasant. 

"  'And  no  one  could  be  found  to  bury  him  except 
Five  dragoons  and  a  corporal 
And  the  sacristan's  cat.'" 

Singing  resentfully,  young  Luis  stayed  in  here,  where 
it  was  pleasant.  Bright  green  branches  of  fruit-trees 
and  small  cottonwoods  and  a  fenced  irrigated  square 
of  green  growing  garden  hid  the  tiny  adobe  home  like 
a  nut,  smooth  and  hard  and  dry  in  their  clustered 
midst.  The  lightest  air  that  could  blow  among  these 
limber,  ready  leaves  set  going  at  once  their  varnished 
twinkling  round  the  house.  Their  white  and  dark 
sides  gleamed  and  went  out  with  chasing  lights  that 
quickened  the  torpid  place  into  a  holiday  of  motion. 
Closed  in  by  this  cool  green,  you  did  not  have  to  see 
or  think  of  Arizona,  just  outside. 

"Where  is  Uncle  Ramon  to-day?"  inquired  Luis, 
dropping  his  music. 

She  sighed.  "  He  has  gone  to  drive  our  cattle  to 
a  new  spring.  There  is  no  pasture  at  the  Tinaja 
Bonita.  Our  streams  and  ditches  went  dry  last  week. 
They  have  never  done  so  in  all  the  years  before.  I 
don't  know  what  is  going  to  happen  to  us."  The  anx 
iety  in  the  girl's  face  seemed  to  come  outward  more 
plainly  for  a  moment,  and  then  recede  to  its  perma 
nent  abiding-place. 

"There  cannot  be  much  water  to  keep  flour-sellers 
alive  on  the  trail  to  Maricopa,"  chirped  the  bird  on 
the  ground. 


1 64  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

She  made  no  answer  to  this.  "  What  are  you  doing 
nowadays  ?"  she  asked. 

"  I  have  been  working  very  hard  on  the  wood  con 
tract  for  the  American  soldiers,"  he  replied,  promptly. 

"  By  Tucson  ?" 

"No.     Huachuca." 

"  Away  over  there  again  ?  I  thought  you  had  cut 
all  they  wanted  last  May." 

"  It  is  of  that  enterprise  of  which  I  speak,  Lolita." 

"But  it's  October  now!"  Lolita  lifted  her  face, 
ruddy  with  stooping,  and  broke  into  laughter. 

"  I  do  not  see  why  you  mock  me.  No  one  has  asked 
me  to  work  since." 

"  Have  you  asked  any  one  for  work  ?" 

"  It  is  not  my  way  to  beg." 

"Luis,  I  don't  believe  you're  quite  a  man  yet,  in 
spite  of  your  mustache.  You  complain  there's  no 
money  for  Mexicans  in  Arizona  because  the  Ameri 
cans  get  it  all.  Why  don't  you  go  back  to  Sonora, 
then,  and  be  rich  in  five  minutes  ?  It  would  sound 
finely:  'Luis  Romero,  Merchant,  Hermosillo.'  Or 
perhaps  gold  would  fall  more  quickly  into  your  lap  at 
Guaymas.  You  would  live  in  a  big  house,  perhaps 
•with  two  stories,  and  I  would  come  and  visit  you  at 
Easter — if  your  wife  would  allow  it."  Here  Lolita 
threw  a  pepper  at  him. 

The  guitar  grated  a  few  pretty  notes ;  otherwise 
there  was  silence. 

"  And  it  was  Uncle  Ramon  persuaded  them  to  hire 
you  in  May.  He  told  the  American  contractor  you 
owned  a  strong  burro  good  for  heavy  loads.  He  didn't 
say  much  about  you,"  added  the  little  lady. 

"  Much  good  it  did  me !  The  American  contractor- 
pig  retained  my  wages  to  pay  for  the  food  he  supplied 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  165 

us.  They  charge  you  extra  for  starvation,  those  grin 
gos.  They  are  all  pigs.  Ah,  Lolita,  a  man  needs  a 
wife,  so  he  may  strive  to  win  a  home  for  her." 

"  I  have  heard  men  say  that  they  needed  a  home 
before  they  could  strive  to  win  a  wife  for  it.  But  you 
go  about  it  the  other  way." 

"  I  am  not  an  American  pig,  I  thank  the  Virgin  !  I 
have  none  of  their  gringo  customs." 

"  You  speak  truly  indeed,"  murmured  Lolita. 

"  It  is  you  who  know  about  them,"  the  boy  said, 
angry  like  a  child.  He  had  seen  her  eye  drawn  to 
the  trail  again  as  by  a  magnet.  "  They  say  you  prefer 
gringos  to  your  own  people." 

"Who  dares  say  that?" 

The  elated  Luis  played  loudly  on  the  guitar.  He 
had  touched  her  that  time. 

But  Lolita's  eye  softened  at  the  instant  of  speaking, 
and  she  broke  into  her  sweet  laugh.  "  There !"  she 
said,  recapturing  the  situation  ;  "  is  it  not  like  old 
times  for  you  and  me  to  be  fighting." 

"  Me  ?     I  am  not  fighting." 

"  You  relieve  me." 

"  I  do  not  consider  a  gringo  worth  my  notice." 

"  Sensible  boy !  You  speak  as  wisely  as  one  who 
has  been  to  school  in  a  large  city.  Luis,  do  you  re 
member  the  day  Uncle  Ramon  locked  me  up  for  rid 
ing  on  the  kicking  burro,  and  you  came  and  unlocked 
me  when  uncle  was  gone  ?  You  took  me  walking,  and 
lost  us  both  in  the  mountains.  We  were  really  only 
a  little,  little  way  from  home,  but  I  thought  we  had 
got  into  another  country  where  they  eat  children.  I 
was  six,  and  I  beat  you  for  losing  me,  and  cried,  and 
you  were  big,  and  you  kissed  me  till  I  stopped  crying. 
Do  you  remember  ? 


166  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  No." 

"  Don't  you  remember  ?" 

"  I  don't  remember  child's  tricks." 

"  Luis,  I  have  come  to  a  conclusion.  You  are  still 
young  enough  for  me  to  kiss  quite  safely.  Every  time 
you  fight  with  me — I  shall  kiss  you.  Won't  you  get 
me  some  fresh  water  now  ?" 

He  lounged,  sulky,  against  his  barrel. 

"  Come,  querido  !  Must  I  go  all  that  way  myself  ? 
Well,  then,  if  you  intend  to  stand  and  glare  at  me  till 
the  moon  rises —  Ah !  he  moves  !" 

Luis  laid  the  guitar  gradually  down,  and  gradually 
lifting  a  pail  in  which  the  dipper  rattled  with  empti 
ness,  he  proceeded  to  crawl  on  his  journey. 

"You  know  that  is  not  the  one  we  use,  muchacho," 
(little  boy),  remarked  Lolita. 

"  Keep  your  kisses  for  your  gringo,"  the  water-car 
rier  growled,  with  his  back  to  her. 

"I  shall  always  save  some  for  my  little  cousin." 

The  pail  clattered  on  the  stones,  and  the  child 
stopped  crawling.  She  on  the  roof  stared  at  this  per 
formance  for  an  open-mouthed  moment,  gloves  idle 
among  the  spicy  peppers.  Then,  laughing,  she  sprang 
to  her  feet,  descended,  and,  catching  up  the  water-jar 
(the  ollade  agua),  overtook  him,  and  shook  it  in  his  face 
with  the  sweetest  derision.  "Now  we'll  go  together," 
said  she,  and  started  gayly  through  the  green  trees 
and  the  garden.  He  followed  her,  two  paces  behind, 
half  ashamed,  and  gazing  at  her  red  handkerchief, 
and  the  black  hair  blowing  a  little  ;  thus  did  they 
cross  the  tiny  cool  home  acre  through  the  twinkling 
pleasantness  of  the  leaves,  and  pass  at  once  outside 
the  magic  circle  of  irrigation  into  Arizona's  domain, 
among  a  prone  herd  of  carcasses  upon  the  ground — 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  167 

dead  cattle,  two  seasons  dead  now,  hunted  to  this 
sanctuary  by  the  drought,  killed  in  the  sanctuary  by 
cold  water. 

A  wise,  quiet  man,  with  a  man's  will,  may  sometimes 
after  three  days  of  thirst  still  hold  grip  enough  upon 
his  slipping  mind  to  know,  when  he  has  found  the 
water,  that  he  must  not  drink  it,  must  only  dampen 
his  lips  and  tongue  in  a  drop-by-drop  fashion  until  he 
has  endured  the  passing  of  many  slow,  insidious  hours. 
Even  a  wise  man  had  best  have  a  friend  by  his  side 
then,  who  shall  fight  and  tear  him  from  the  perilous 
excesses  that  he  craves,  knock  him  senseless  if  he 
cannot  pin  him  down  ;  but  cattle  know  nothing  of 
drop  by  drop,  and  you  cannot  pin  down  a  hundred 
head  that  have  found  water  after  three  days.  So  these 
hundred  had  drunk  themselves  swollen,  and  died. 
Cracked  hide  and  white  bone  they  lay,  brown,  dry, 
gaping  humps  straddled  stiff  askew  in  the  last  convul 
sion  ;  and  over  ..them  presided  Arizona — silent,  vast, 
all  sunshine  everlasting. 

Luis  saw  these  corpses  that  had  stumbled  to  their 
fate,  and  he  remembered  ;  with  Lolita  in  those  trees 
all  day,  he  had  forgotten  for  a  while.  He  pointed  to 
the  wide-strewn  sight,  familiar,  monotonous  as  misfort 
une.  "There  will  be  many  more/'  he  said.  "An 
other  rainy  season  is  gone  without  doing  anything  for 
the  country.  It  cannot  rain  now  for  another  year, 
Lolita." 

"  God  help  us  and  our  cattle,  and  travellers !"  she 
whispered. 

Luis  musingly  repeated  a  saying  of  the  country 
about  the  Tinaja  Bonita, 

"  'When  you  see  the  Black  Cross  dry, 
Fill  the  wagon  cisterns  high ' " 


168  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

—  a  doggerel  in  homely  Spanish  metre,  unwritten 
mouth-to-mouth  wisdom,  stable  as  a  proverb,  enduring 
through  generations  of  unrecorded  wanderers,  that  re 
peated  it  for  a  few  years,  and  passed  beneath  the 
desert. 

"  But  the  Black  Cross  has  never  been  dry  yet,"  Luis 
said. 

"  You  have  not  seen  it  lately,"  said  Lolita. 

"  Lolita !  do  you  mean — "  He  looked  in  her  trou 
bled  eyes,  and  they  went  on  in  silence  together.  They 
left  behind  them  the  bones  and  the  bald  level  on 
which  they  lay,  and  came  to  where  the  canon's  broad 
er  descent  quickened  until  they  sank  below  that 
sight  of  the  cattle,  and  for  a  time  below  the  home 
and  trees.  They  went  down  steeply  by  cactus  and 
dry  rock  to  a  meeting  of  several  canons  opening  from 
side  rifts  in  the  Sierra,  furrowing  the  main  valley's 
mesa  with  deep  watercourses  that  brought  no  water. 
Finding  their  way  in  this  lumpy  meeting-ground,  they 
came  upon  the  lurking-place  of  the  Tinaja  Bonita. 
They  stood  above  it  at  the  edge  of  a  pitch  of  rock, 
watching  the  motionless  crystal  of  the  pool. 

"  How  well  it  hides  down  there  in  its  own  canon  !" 
said  Luis.  "  How  pretty  and  clear !  But  there's 
plenty  of  water,  Lolita." 

"  Can  you  see  the  Black  Cross  ?" 

"Not  from  here." 

They  began  descending  around  the  sides  of  the 
crumbled  slate-rock  face  that  tilted  too  steep  for  foot- 
hold. 

"The  other  well  is  dry,  of  course,"  said  Lolita.  In 
the  slaty,  many-ledged  formation  a  little  lower  down 
the  canon,  towards  the  peep  of  outlying  open  country 
which  the  cloven  hills  let  in,  was  a  second  round  hole, 


LA  TINAJA   BONITA  169 

twin  of  the  first.  Except  after  storms,  water  was  nev 
er  in  this  place,  and  it  lay  dry  as  a  kiln  nine-tenths  of 
the  year.  But  in  size  and  depth  and  color,  and  the 
circular  fashion  of  its  shaft,  which  seemed  man's  rather 
than  nature's  design,  it  might  have  been  the  real  Tina- 
ja's  reflection,  conjured  in  some  evil  mirror  where 
everything  was  faithfully  represented  except  the  water. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  real  well  once,"  said  Luis. 

"  Once,  yes." 

"  And  what  made  it  go  dry  ?" 

"Who  knows?" 

"How  strange  it  should  be  the  lower  well  that 
failed,  Lolita !" 

The  boy  and  girl  were  climbing  down  slowly,  draw 
ing  near  each  other  as  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
hollow.  The  peep  of  open  country  was  blocked,  and 
the  tall  tops  of  the  mountains  were  all  of  the  outer 
world  to  be  seen  down  here  below  the  mesa's  level. 
The  silence  was  like  something  older  than  this  world, 
like  the  silence  of  space  before  any  worlds  were  made. 

"Do  you  believe  it  ever  can  go  dry?"  asked  Luis. 
They  were  now  on  the  edge  of  the  Tinaja. 

"  Father  Rafael  says  that  it  is  miraculous,"  said  the 
girl,  believingly. 

Opposite,  and  everywhere  except  where  they  were, 
the  walls  went  sheer  down,  not  slate-colored,  but 
white,  with  a  sudden  up-cropping  formation  of  brick- 
shaped  stones.  These  also  were  many-layered  and 
crumbling,  cracking  off  into  the  pool  if  the  hand  hung 
or  the  foot  weighed  on  them.  No  safe  way  went  to 
the  water  but  at  this  lower  side,  where  the  riven,  tum 
bled  white  blocks  shelved  easily  to  the  bottom  \  and 
Luis  and  Lolita  looked  down  these  natural  stairs  at 
the  portent  in  the  well.  In  that  white  formation  shot 


170  RED   MEN   AND    WHITE 

up  from  the  earth's  bowels,  arbitrary  and  irrelevant 
amid  the  surrounding  alien  layers  of  slate,  four  black 
stones  were  lodged  as  if  built  into  the  wall  by  some 
hand — four  small  stones  shaping  a  cross,  back  against 
the  white,  symmetrical  and  plain. 

"  It  has  come  farther — more  uncovered  since  yester 
day,"  Lolita  whispered. 

"Can  the  Tinaja  sink  altogether?"  repeated  Luis. 
The  arms  of  the  cross  were  a  measurable  space  above 
the  water-line,  and  he  had  always  seen  it  entirely  sub 
merged. 

"  How  could  it  sink  ?"  said  Lolita,  simply.  "  It  will 
stop  when  the  black  stones  are  wholly  dry." 

"You  believe  Father  Rafael,"  Luis  said,  always  in  a 
low  voice  ;  "  but  it  was  only  Indians,  after  all,  who  told 
the  mission  fathers  at  the  first." 

"  That  was  very  long  ago,"  said  she,  "  and  there  has 
always  been  water  in  the  Tinaja  Bonita." 

Boy  and  girl  had  set  the  jar  down,  and  forgotten  it 
and  why  they  had  come.  Luis  looked  uneasily  at  the 
circular  pool,  and  up  from  this  creviced  middle  of  the 
canon  to  the  small  high  tops  of  the  mountains  rising  in 
the  free  sky. 

"  This  is  an  evil  place,"  he  said.  "As  for  the  water 
— no  one,  no  three,  can  live  long  enough  to  be  sure." 

But  it  was  part  of  Lolita's  religion.  "  I  am  sure," 
said  she. 

The  young  Mexican's  eyes  rested  on  the  face  of  the 
girl  beside  him,  more  beautiful  just  then  with  some 
wave  of  secret  fear  and  faith. 

"  Come  away  with  me,  Lolita !"  he  pleaded,  suddenly. 
"I  can  work.  I  can  be  a  man.  It  is  fearful  for  you 
to  live  here  alone." 

"  Alone,  Luis?"     His  voice  had  called  her  from  her 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  iji 

reverie  back  to  her  gay,  alert  self.  "  Do  you  consider 
Uncle  Ramon  nobody  to  live  with  ?" 

"  Yes.     Nobody— for  you." 

"  Promise  me  never  to  tell  that  to  uncle.  He  is  so 
considerate  that  he  might  make  me  marry  somebody 
for  company.  And  then,  you  know,  my  husband  would 
be  certain  to  be  stupid  about  your  coming  to  see  me, 
querido." 

"  Why  do  you  always  mock  me,  Lolita  ?" 

"Mock  you?  What  a  fancy!  Oh,  see  how  the 
sun's  going !  If  we  do  not  get  our  water,  your  terri 
ble  Tinaja  will  go  dry  before  supper.  Come,  Luis,  I 
carried  the  olla.  Must  I  do  everything  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  disconsolate.  "  Ah  !"  he  vibrated, 
revelling  in  deep  imaginary  passion. 

"  Go !  go  !"  she  cried,  pushing  him.  "  Take  your 
olla." 

Upon  the  lightest  passing  puff  of  sentiment  the 
Southern  breast  can  heave  with  every  genuine  symp 
tom  of  storm,  except  wreck.  Of  course  she  stirred  his 
gregarious  heart.  Was  she  not  lovely  and  he  twenty- 
two?  He  went  down  the  natural  stairs  and  came 
slowly  up  with  the  water,  stopping  a  step  below  her. 
"Lolita,"  he  said,  "don't  you  love  me  at  all?  not  a 
very  little  ?" 

"  You  are  my  dearest,  oldest  friend,  Luis,"  she  said, 
looking  at  him  with  such  full  sweetness  that  his  eyes 
fell.  "  But  why  do  you  pretend  five  beans  make  ten  ?" 

"  Of  course  they  only  make  ten  with  gringos." 

She  held  up  a  warning  finger. 

"  Oh  yes,  oh  yes !  Strangers  make  fine  lovers  !" 
With  this  he  swelled  to  a  fond,  dangerous  appearance, 
and  muttered,  "  It  is  not  difficult  to  kill  a  man,  Lolita." 

"  Fighting !  after  what  I  told  you !"     Lolita  stooped 


172  RED    MEN  AND   WHITE 

and  kissed  her  cousin  Luis,  and  he  instantly  made  the 
most  of  that  chance. 

"  As  often  as  you  please,"  he  said,  as  she  released 
herself  angrily,  and  then  a  stroke  of  sound  struck  their 
two  hearts  still.  They  jumped  apart,  trembling.  Some 
of  the  rock  slide  had  rattled  down  and  plunged  into  the 
Tinaja  with  a  gulping  resonance.  Loitering  strings  of 
sand  strewed  after  it,  and  the  boy's  and  girl's  super 
stitious  eyes  looked  up  from  the  ringed,  waving  water 
to  the  ledge.  Lolita's  single  shriek  of  terror  turned  to 
joy  as  she  uttered  it. 

"  I  thought — I  thought  you  would  not  come  !"  she 
cried  out. 

The  dismounted  horseman  above  made  no  sign  of 
understanding  her  words.  He  stepped  carefully  away 
from  the  ledge  his  foot  had  crumbled,  and  they  saw 
him  using  his  rifle  like  a  staff,  steadying  its  stock  in 
successive  niches,  and  so  working  back  to  his  horse. 
There  he  slid  the  rifle  into  its  leather  sling  along  the 
left  side  of  his  saddle. 

"  So  he  is  not  dead,"  murmured  Luis,  "  and  we 
need  not  live  alone." 

"  Come  down  !"  the  girl  called,  and  waved  her  hand. 
But  the  new-comer  stood  by  his  horse  like  an  appari 
tion. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  dead,  after  all,"  Luis  said.  "  You 
might  say  some  of  the  Mass,  only  he  was  a  heretic. 
But  his  horse  is  Mexican,  and  a  believer." 

Lolita  had  no  eyes  or  ears  for  Luis  any  more.  He 
prattled  away  on  the  stone  stairs  of  the  Tinaja,  flippant 
after  a  piercing  shock  of  fear.  To  him,  unstrung  by 
the  silence  and  the  Black  Cross  and  the  presence  of 
the  sinking  pool,  the  stone  had  crashed  like  a  clap  of 
sorcery,  and  he  had  started  and  stared  to  see — not  a 


LA    TINAJA    BONITA  173 

spirit,  but  a  man,  dismounted  from  his  horse,  with  a 
rifle.  At  that  his  heart  clutched  him  like  talons,  and 
in  the  flashing  spasm  of  his  mind  came  a  picture — 
smoke  from  the  rifle,  and  himself  bleeding  in  the  dust. 
Costly  love-making !  For  Luis  did  not  believe  the 
rifle  to  have  been  brought  to  the  ledge  there  as  a  staff, 
and  he  thanked  the  Virgin  for  the  stone  that  fell  and 
frightened  him,  and  made  htm  move  suddenly.  He 
had  chattered  himself  cool  now,  and  ready.  Lolita  was 
smiling  at  the  man  on  the  hill,  glowing  without  con 
cealment  of  her  heart's  desire. 

"  Come  down  !"  she  repeated.  "  Come  round  the 
side."  And,  lifting  the  olla,  she  tapped  it,  and  signed 
the  way  to  him. 

"  He  has  probably  brought  too  much  white  flour  for 
Uncle  Ramon  to  care  to  climb  more  than  he  must," 
said  Luis.  But  the  man  had  stirred  at  last  from  his 
sentinel  stillness,  and  began  leading  his  horse  down. 
Presently  he  was  near  enough  for  Luis  to  read  his  face. 
"Your  gringo  is  a  handsome  fellow,  certainly,"  he  com 
mented.  "  But  he  does  not  like  me  to-day." 

"  Like  you !  He  doesn't  think  about  you,"  said 
Lolita. 

"  Ha  !     That's  your  opinion  ?" 

"It  is  also  his  opinion — if  you'll  ask  him." 

"  He  is  afraid  of  Cousin  Luis,"  stated  the  youth. 

"Cousin  grasshopper!  He  could  eat  you — if  he 
could  see  you." 

"  There  are  other  things  in  this  world  besides  brute 
muscle,  Lolita.  Your  gringo  thinks  I  am  worth  no 
tice,  if  you  do  not." 

"  How  little  he  knows  you  !" 

"  It  is  you  he  does  not  know  very  well,"  the  boy 
said,  with  a  pang. 


174  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

The  scornful  girl  stared. 

"  Oh,  the  innocent  one  !"  sneered  Luis.  "  Grass 
hopper,  indeed  !  Well,  one  man  can  always  recognize 
another,  and  the  women  don't  know  much." 

But  Lolita  had  run  off  to  meet  her  chosen  lover. 
She  did  not  stop  to  read  his  face.  He  was  here  ;  and 
as  she  hurried  towards  him  she  had  no  thought  except 
that  he  was  come  at  last.  She  saw  his  eyes  and  lips, 
and  to  her  they  were  only  the  eyes  and  lips  that  she 
had  longed  for.  "You  have  come  just  in  time,"  she 
called  out  to  him.  At  the  voice,  he  looked  at  her  one 
instant,  and  looked  away  ;  but  the  nearer  sight  of  her 
sent  a  tide  of  scarlet  across  his  face.  His  actions  he 
could  control,  his  bearing,  and  the  steadiness  of  his 
speech,  but  not  the  coursing  of  his  blood.  It  must 
have  been  a  minute  he  had  stood  on  the  ledge  above, 
getting  a  grip  of  himself.  "  Luis  was  becoming  really 
afraid  that  he  might  have  to  do  some  work,"  continued 
Lolita,  coming  up  the  stony  hill.  "You  know  Luis  ?" 

"I  know  him." 

"  You  can  fill  your  two  canteens  and  carry  the  olla 
for  us,"  she  pursued,  arriving  eagerly  beside  him,  her 
face  lifted  to  her  strong,  tall  lover. 

"  I  can." 

At  this  second  chill  of  his  voice,  and  his  way  of 
meeting  her  when  she  had  come  running,  she  looked 
at  him  bewildered,  and  the  smile  fluttered  on  her  lips 
and  left  them.  She  walked  beside  him,  talking  no 
more  ;  nor  could  she  see  his  furtive  other  hand  mutely 
open  and  shut,  helping  him  keep  his  grip. 

Luis  also  looked  at  the  man  who  had  taken  Lolita's 
thoughts  away  from  him  and  all  other  men.  "  No, 
indeed,  he  does  not  understand  her  very  well,"  he  re 
peated,  bitter  in  knowing  the  man's  suspicion  and  its 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  175 

needlessness.  Something — disappointment,  it  may  be 
— had  wrought  more  reality  in  the  young  Mexican's 
easy-going  love.  "  And  she  likes  this  gringo  because 
— because  he  is  light-colored!"  he  said,  watching  the 
American's  bronzed  Saxon  face,  almost  as  young  as 
his  own,  but  of  sterner  stuff.  Its  look  left  him  no 
further  doubt,  and  he  held  himself  forewarned.  The 
American  came  to  the  bottom,  powerful,  blue-eyed, 
his  mustache  golden,  his  cheek  clean-cut,  and  beaten 
to  shining  health  by  the  weather.  He  swung  his  blue- 
overalled  leg  over  his  saddle  and  rode  to  the  Tinaja, 
with  a  short  greeting  to  the  watcher,  while  the  pale 
Lolita  unclasped  the  canteen  straps  and  brought  the 
water  herself,  brushing  coldly  by  Luis  to  hook  the 
canteens  to  the  saddle  again.  This  slighting  touch 
changed  the  Mexican  boy's  temper  to  diversion  and 
malice.  Here  were  mountains  from  mole-hills  !  Here 
were  five  beans  making  ten  with  a  vengeance  ! 

"  Give  me  that,"  said  the  American ;  and  Luis 
handed  up  the  water-jar  to  him  with  such  feline  polite 
ness  that  the  American's  blue  eyes  filled  with  fire  and 
rested  on  him  for  a  doubtful  second.  But  Luis  was 
quite  ready,  and  more  diverted  than  ever  over  the  sup 
pressed  violence  of  his  Saxon  friend.  The  horseman 
wheeled  at  once,  and  took  a  smooth  trail  out  to  the 
top  of  the  mesa,  the  girl  and  boy  following. 

As  the  three  went  silent  up  the  canon,  Luis  caught 
sight  of  Lolita's  eyes  shining  with  the  hurt  of  her  lov 
er's  rebuff,  and  his  face  sparkled  with  further  mischief. 
"  She  has  been  despising  me  all  day,"  he  said  to  him 
self.  "  Very  well,  very  well. — Sefior  Don  Ruz,"  he 
began  aloud,  elaborately,  "  we  are  having  a  bad 
drought." 

The  American  rode  on,  inspecting  the  country. 


176  RED   MEN   AND    WHITE 

"  I  know  at  least  four  sorts  of  kisses,"  reflected  the 
Mexican  trifler.  "  But  there  !  very  likely  to  me  also 
they  would  appear  alike  from  the  top  of  a  rock."  He 
looked  the  American  over,  the  rifle  under  his  leg,  his 
pistol,  and  his  knife.  "  How  clumsy  these  gringos  are 
when  it's  about  a  girl !"  thought  Luis.  "  Any  fool 
could  fool  them.  Now  I  should  take  much  care  to  be 
friendly  if  ever  I  did  want  to  kill  a  man  in  earnest. 
Comical  gringo! — Yes,  very  dry  weather,  Don  Ruz. 
And  the  rainy  season  gone  !" 

The  American  continued  to  inspect  the  country,  his 
supple,  flannel-shirted  back  hinting  no  interest  in  the 
talk. 

"  Water  is  getting  scarce,  Don  Ruz,"  persisted  the 
gadfly,  lighting  again.  "  Don  Ramon's  spring  does 
not  run  now,  and  so  we  must  come  to  the  Tinaja 
Bonita,  you  see.  Don  Ramon  removed  the  cattle  yes 
terday.  Everybody  absent  from  home,  except  Lolita." 
Luis  thought  he  could  see  his  Don  Ruz  listening  to 
that  last  piece  of  gossip,  and  his  smile  over  himself 
and  his  skill  grew  more  engaging.  "  Lolita  has  been 
telling  me  all  to-day  that  even  the  Tinaja  will  go 
dry." 

"  It  was  you  said  that !"  exclaimed  the  brooding, 
helpless  Lolita. 

"  So  I  did.  And  it  was  you  said  no.  Well,  we 
found  something  to  disagree  about."  The  man  in  the 
flannel  shirt  was  plainly  attending  to  his  tormentor. 
"No  sabe  cuantos  son  cinco,"  Luis  whispered,  step 
ping  close  to  Lolita.  "  Your  gringo  could  not  say  boo 
to  a  goose  just  now."  Lolita  drew  away  from  her 
cousin,  and  her  lover  happened  to  turn  his  head 
slightly,  so  that  he  caught  sight  of  her  drawing  away. 
"But  what  do  you  say  yourself,  Don  Ruz?"  inquired 


LA   TINA J A    BONITA  177 

Luis,  pleased  at  this  slight  coincidence — "  will  the  Ti- 
naja  go  dry,  do  you  think?" 

"  I  expect  guessing  won't  interfere  with  the  water's 
movements  much,"  finally  remarked  Don  Ruz — Russ 
Genesmere.  His  drawl  and  the  body  in  his  voice 
were  not  much  like  the  Mexican's  light  fluency.  They 
were  music  to  Lolita,  and  her  gaze  went  to  him  once 
more,  but  he  got  no  answer.  The  bitter  Luis  relished 
this  too. 

"  You  are  right,  Don  Ruz.  Guessing  is  idle.  Yet 
how  can  we  help  wondering  about  this  mysterious 
Tinaja  ?  I  am  sure  that  you  can  never  have  seen  so 
much  of  the  cross  out  of  water.  Lolita  says — " 

"  So  that's  that  place,"  said  Genesmere,  roughly. 

Luis  looked  inquiring. 

"  Down  there,"  Genesmere  explained,  with  a  jerk  of 
his  head  back  along  the  road  they  had  come. 

Luis  was  surprised  that  Don  Ruz,  who  knew  this 
country  so  well,  should  never  have  seen  the  Tinaja 
Bonita  until  to-day. 

"  I'd  have  seen  it  if  I'd  had  any  use  for  it,"  said 
Genesmere. 

"  To  be  sure,  it  lay  off  the  road  of  travel,"  Luis  as 
sented.  And  of  course  Don  Ruz  knew  all  that  was 
needful — how  to  find  it.  He  knew  what  people  said 
— did  he  not  ?  Father  Rafael,  Don  Ramon,  every 
body  ?  Lolita  perhaps  had  told  him  ?  And  that  if 
the  cross  ever  rose  entirely  above  the  water,  that  was 
a  sign  all  other  water-holes  in  the  region  were  empty. 
Therefore  it  was  a  good  warning  for  travellers,  since 
by  it  they  could  judge  how  much  water  to  carry  on  a 
journey.  But  certainly  he  and  Lolita  were  surprised 
to  see  how  low  the  Tinaja  had  fallen  to-day.  No 
doubt  what  the  Indians  said  about  the  great  under- 


178  RED   MEN   AND  WHITE 

ground  snake  that  came  and  sucked  all  the  wells  dry 
in  the  lower  country,  and  in  consequence  was  nearly 
satisfied  before  he  reached  the  Tinaja,  was  untrue. 

To  this  tale  of  Jesuits  and  peons  the  American  lis 
tened  with  unexpressed  contempt,  caring  too  little  to 
mention  that  he  had  heard  some  of  it  before,  or  even 
to  say  that  in  the  last  few  days  he  had  crossed  the 
desert  from  Tucson  and  found  water  on  the  trail  as 
usual  where  he  expected.  He  rode  on,  leading  the 
way  slowly  up  the  canon,  suffering  the  glib  Mexican  to 
talk  unanswered.  His  own  suppressed  feelings  still 
smouldered  in  his  eye,  still  now  and  then  knotted  the 
muscles  in  his  cheeks  ;  but  of  Luis's  chatter  he  said  his 
whole  opinion  in  one  word,  a  single  English  syllable, 
which  he  uttered  quietly  for  his  own  benefit.  It  also 
benefited  Luis.  He  was  familiar  with  that  order  of 
English,  and,  overhearing,  he  understood.  It  consoled 
the  Mexican  to  feel  how  easily  he  could  play  this  sim 
ple,  unskilful  American. 

They  passed  through  the  hundred  corpses  to  the 
home  and  the  green  trees,  where  the  sun  was  setting 
against  the  little  shaking  leaves. 

"  So  you  will  camp  here  to-night,  Don  Ruz?"  said 
Luis,  perceiving  the  American's  pack-mules.  Genes- 
mere  had  come  over  from  the  mines  at  Gun  Sight, 
found  the  cabin  empty,  and  followed  Lolita's  and  her 
cousin's  trail,  until  he  had  suddenly  seen  the  two  from 
that  ledge  above  the  Tinaja.  "  You  are  always  wel 
come  to  what  we  have  at  our  camp,  you  know,  Don 
Ruz.  All  that  is  mine  is  yours  also.  To-night  it  is 
probably  frijoles.  But  no  doubt  you  have  white  flour 
here."  He  was  giving  his  pony  water  from  the  barrel, 
and  next  he  threw  the  saddle  on  and  mounted.  "  I 
must  be  going  back,  or  they  will  decide  I  am  not 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  179 

coming  till  to-morrow,  and  quickly  eat  my  supper." 
He  spoke  jauntily  from  his  horse,  arm  akimbo,  natty 
short  jacket  put  on  for  to-day's  courting,  gray  steeple- 
hat  silver-embroidered,  a  spruce,  pretty  boy,  not  likely 
to  toil  severely  at  wood  contracts  so  long  as  he  could 
hold  soul  and  body  together  and  otherwise  be  merry, 
and  the  hand  of  that  careless  arm  soft  on  his  pistol, 
lest  Don  Ruz  should  abruptly  dislike  him  too  much ; 
for  Luis  contrived  a  tone  for  his  small-talk  that  would 
have  disconcerted  the  most  sluggish,  sweet  to  his  own 
mischievous  ears,  healing  to  his  galled  self-esteem. 
"Good-night,  Don  Ruz.  Good-night,  Lolita.  Per 
haps  I  shall  come  to-morrow,  maiiana  en  la  manana." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Lolita,  harshly,  which  increased 
his  joy ;  "  I  cannot  stop  you  from  passing  my  house." 

Genesmere  said  nothing,  but  sat  still  on  his  white 
horse,  hands  folded  upon  the  horns  of  his  saddle,  and 
Luis,  always  engaging  and  at  ease,  ambled  away  with 
his  song  about  the  hunchback.  He  knew  that  the 
American  was  not  the  man  to  wait  until  his  enemy's 
back  was  turned. 

"  '  El  telele  se  murid 

A  enterrar  ya  le  llevan — ' " 

The  tin-pan  Mexican  voice  was  empty  of  melody 
and  full  of  rhythm. 

"'Ay!     Ay!     Ay!'" 

Lolita  and  Genesmere  stood  as  they  had  stood,  not 
very  near  each  other,  looking  after  him  and  his  gay- 
ety  that  the  sun  shone  bright  upon.  The  minstrel 
truly  sparkled.  His  clothes  were  more  elegant  than 
the  American's  shirt  and  overalls,  and  his  face  luxu 
riant  with  thoughtlessness.  Like  most  of  his  basking 


l8o  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

Southern  breed,  he  had  no  visible  means  of  support, 
and  nothing  could  worry  him  for  longer  than  three 
minutes.  Frijoles  do  not  come  high,  out-of-doors  is 
good  enough  to  sleep  in  if  you  or  your  friend  have  no 
roof,  and  it  is  not  a  hard  thing  to  sell  some  other 
man's  horses  over  the  border  and  get  a  fine  coat  and 
hat. 

1 '  '  Cinco  dragones  y  un  cabo, 

Oh,  no  no  no  no  no  ! 

Y  un  gato  de  sacristan.'" 

Coat  and  hat  were  getting  up  the  canon's  side 
among  the  cactus,  the  little  horse  climbing  the  trail 
shrewdly  with  his  light-weight  rider ;  and  dusty,  un 
musical  Genesmere  and  sullen  Lolita  watched  them 
till  they  went  behind  a  bend,  and  nothing  remained 
but  the  tin-pan  song  singing  in  Genesmere's  brain. 
The  gadfly  had  stung  more  poisonously  than  he 
knew,  and  still  Lolita  and  Genesmere  stood  watching 
nothing,  while  the  sun — the  sun  of  Arizona  at  the 
day's  transfigured  immortal  passing — became  a  crim 
son  coal  in  a  lake  of  saffron,  burning  and  beating 
like  a  heart,  till  the  desert  seemed  no  longer  dead, 
but  only  asleep,  and  breathing  out  wide  rays  of  rain 
bow  color  that  rose  expanded  over  earth  and  sky. 

Then  Genesmere  spoke  his  first  volunteered  word 
to  Lolita.  "  I  didn't  shoot  because  I  was  afraid  of 
hitting  you,"  he  said. 

So  now  she  too  realized  clearly.  He  had  got  off 
his  horse  above  the  Tinaja  to  kill  Luis  during  that 
kiss.  Complete  innocence  had  made  her  stupid  and 
slow. 

"  Are  you  going  to  eat  ?"  she  inquired. 

"Oh  yes.     I  guess  I'll  eat." 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  igf 

She  set  about  the  routine  of  fire-lighting  and  supper 
as  if  it  had  been  Uncle  Ramon,  and  this  evening  like 
all  evenings.  He,  not  so  easily,  and  with  small  blun- 
derings  that  he  cursed,  attended  to  his  horse  and 
mules,  coming  in  at  length  to  sit  against  the  wall 
where  she  was  cooking. 

"It  is  getting  dark,"  said  Lolita.  So  he  found  the 
lamp  and  lighted  it,  and  sat  down  again. 

"  I've  never  hurt  a  woman,"  he  said,  presently,  the 
vision  of  his  rifle's  white  front  sight  held  steady  on  the 
two  below  the  ledge  once  more  flooding  his  brain. 
He  spoke  slowly. 

"  Then  you  have  a  good  chance  now,"  said  Lolita, 
quickly,  busy  over  her  cooking.  In  her  Southern  ears 
such  words  sounded  a  threat.  It  was  not  in  her  blood 
to  comprehend  this  Northern  way  of  speaking  and 
walking  and  sitting,  and  being  one  thing  outside  and 
another  inside. 

"And  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  woman" — he  was  hardly 
talking  to  her — "  not  if  I  could  think  in  time." 

"  Men  do  it,"  she  said,  with  the  same  defiance. 
"  But  it  makes  talk." 

"Talk's  nothing  to  me,"  said  Genesmere,  flaming  to 
fierceness.  "Do  I  care  for  opinions?  Only  my  own." 
The  fierceness  passed  from  his  face,  and  he  was  re 
mote  from  her  again.  Again  he  fell  to  musing  aloud, 
changing  from  Mexican  to  his  mother- tongue.  "I 
wouldn't  want  to  have  to  remember  a  thing  like  that." 
He  stretched  himself,  and  leaned  his  elbows  on  his 
knees  and  his  head  in  his  hands,  the  yellow  hair 
hiding  his  fingers.  She  had  often  seen  him  do  this 
when  he  felt  lazy;  it  was  not  a  sign  by  which  she 
could  read  a  spiritual  standstill,  a  quivering  wreck  of 
faith  and  passion.  "  I  have  to  live  a  heap  of  my  life 


182  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

alone,"  the  lounger  went  on.  "  Journey  alone.  Camp 
alone.  Me  and  my  mules.  And  I  don't  propose  to 
have  thoughts  a  man  should  be  ashamed  of."  Lolita 
was  throwing  a  cloth  over  the  table  and  straightening 
it.  "  I'm  twenty-five,  and  I've  laid  by  no  such  thoughts 
yet.  Church  folks  might  say  different." 

"It  is  ready,"  said  Lolita,  finishing  her  preparations. 

He  looked  up,  and,  seeing  the  cloth  and  the  places 
set,  pulled  his  chair  to  the  table,  and  passively  took 
the  food  she  brought  him.  She  moved  about  the 
room  between  shelves  and  fire,  and,  when  she  had 
served  him,  seated  herself  at  leisure  to  begin  her  own 
supper.  Uncle  Ramon  was  a  peon  of  some  substance, 
doing  business  in  towns  and  living  comparatively  well. 
Besides  the  shredded  spiced  stew  of  meat,  there  were 
several  dishes  for  supper.  Genesmere  ate  the  meal 
deliberately,  attending  to  his  plate  and  cup,  and  Lolita 
was  as  silent  as  himself,  only  occasionally  looking  at 
him ;  and  in  time  his  thoughts  came  to  the  surface 
again  in  words.  He  turned  and  addressed  Lolita  in 
Mexican  :  "  So,  you  see,  you  saved  his  life  down  there." 

She  laid  her  fork  down  and  gave  a  laugh,  hard  and 
harsh  ;  and  she  said  nothing,  but  waited  for  what  next. 

"You  don't  believe  that.  You  don't  know  that. 
He  knows  that." 

She  laughed  again,  more  briefly. 

"  You  can  tell  him  so.     From  me." 

Replies  seemed  to  struggle  together  on  Lolita's  lips 
and  hinder  each  other's  escaping. 

"  And  you  can  tell  him  another  thing.  He  wouldn't 
have  stopped.  He'd  have  shot.  Say  that.  From  me. 
He'd  have  shot,  because  he's  a  Spaniard,  like  you." 

"You  lie!"  This  side  issue  in  some  manner  set 
free  the  girl's  tongue,  "I  am  not  Spanish.  I  care 


LA    TINAJA   BONITA  183 

nothing  for  Spaniards  or  what  they  may  do.  I  am 
Mexican,  and  I  waited  to  see  you  kill  him.  I  wanted 
to  watch  his  blood.  But  you  !  you  listened  to  his  false 
talk,  and  believed  him,  and  let  him  go.  I  save  his 
life  ?  Go  after  him  now !  Do  it  with  this  knife,  and 
tell  him  it  is  Lolita's.  But  do  not  sit  there  and  talk 
any  more.  I  have  had  enough  of  men's  talk  to-day. 
Enough,  enough,  enough  !" 

Genesmere  remained  in  his  chair,  while  she  had 
risen  to  her  feet.  "  I  suppose,"  he  said,  very  slowly, 
"that  folks  like  you  folks  can't  understand  about  love 
— not  about  the  kind  I  mean." 

Lolita's  two  hands  clinched  the  edge  of  the  table, 
and  she  called  upon  her  gods.  "  Believe  it,  then  ! 
Believe  it !  And  kill  me,  if  that  will  make  you  con 
tented.  But  do  not  talk  any  more.  Yes,  he  told  me 
that  he  loved  me.  Yes,  I  kissed  him ;  I  have  kissed 
him  hundreds  of  times,  always,  since  before  I  can  re 
member.  And  I  had  been  laughing  at  him  to-day, 
having  nothing  in  my  heart  but  you.  All  day  it  had 
rejoiced  me  to  hear  his  folly  and  think  of  you,  and 
think  how  little  he  knew,  and  how  you  would  come 
soon.  But  your  folly  is  worse.  Kill  me  in  this  house 
to-night,  and  I  will  tell  you,  dying,  that  I  love  you,  and 
that  it  is  you  who  are  the  fool." 

She  looked  at  her  lover,  and  seeing  his  face  and 
eyes  she  had  sought  to  bring  before  her  in  the  days 
that  she  had  waited  for  him,  she  rushed  to  him. 

"  Lolita  !"  he  whispered.     "  Lolita  !" 

But  she  could  only  sob  as  she  felt  his  arms  and  his 
lips.  And  when  presently  he  heard  her  voice  again 
murmuring  brokenly  to  him  in  the  way  that  he  knew 
and  had  said  over  in  his  mind  and  dwelt  upon  through 
the  desert  stages  he  had  ridden,  he  trembled,  and  with 


184  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

savage  triumph  drew  her  close,  and  let  his  doubt  and 
the  thoughts  that  had  chilled  and  changed  him  sink 
deep  beneath  the  flood  of  this  present  rapture.  "  My 
life!"  she  said.  "Toda  mi  vida !  All  my  life!" 
Through  the  open  door  the  air  of  the  canon  blew  cool 
into  the  little  room  overheated  by  the  fire  and  the 
lamp,  and  in  time  they  grew  aware  of  the  endless  rus 
tling  of  the  trees,  and  went  out  and  stood  in  the  dark 
ness  together,  until  it  ceased  to  be  darkness,  and  their 
eyes  could  discern  the  near  and  distant  shapes  of  their 
world.  The  sky  was  black  and  splendid,  with  four  or 
five  planets  too  bright  for  lesser  stars  to  show,  and  the 
promontories  of  the  keen  mountains  shone  almost  as 
in  moonlight.  A  certain  hill  down  towards  the  Tinaja 
and  its  slate  ledge  caught  Genesmere's  eye,  and  Lolita 
felt  him  shudder,  and  she  wound  her  arm  more  tightly 
about  him. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  she  said. 

"Nothing."  He  was  staring  at  the  hill.  "Noth 
ing."  he  replied  to  himself. 

"  Dreamer,  come  !"  said  Lolita,  pulling  him.  "  It  is 
cold  here  in  the  night — and  if  you  choose  to  forget,  I 
choose  you  shall  remember." 

"  What  does  this  girl  want  now  ?" 

"  The  cards  !  our  cards  !" 

"  Why,  to  be  sure  !"  He  ran  after  her,  and  joy  beat 
in  her  heart  at  the  fleet  kiss  he  tried  for  and  half 
missed.  She  escaped  into  the  room,  laughing  for  de 
light  at  her  lover's  being  himself  again — his  own  right 
self  that  she  talked  with  always  in  the  long  days  she 
waited  alone. 

"  Take  it !"  she  cried  out,  putting  the  guitar  at  him 
so  he  should  keep  his  distance.  "  There !  now  you 
have  broken  it,  songless  Americano !  You  shall  buy 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  185 

me  another."  She  flung  the  light  instrument,  that  fell 
in  a  corner  with  a  loud  complaint  of  all  the  strings  to 
gether,  collapsing  to  a  blurred  hollow  humming,  and 
silence. 

"  Now  you  have  done  it !"  said  Genesmere,  mock 
serious. 

"  I  don't  care.  I  am  glad.  He  played  on  that  to 
day.  He  can  have  it,  and  you  shall  give  me  a  new  one. 

"  '  Yo  soy  purita  mejicana  ; 
Nada  tengo  espanol,'" 

sang  the  excited,  breathless  Lolita  to  her  American, 
and  seated  herself  at  the  table,  beginning  a  brisk  shuffle 
of  a  dim,  dog  -  eared  pack.  "  You  sit  there  !"  She 
nodded  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  table.  "  Very  well, 
move  the  lamp  then."  Genesmere  had  moved  it  be 
cause  it  hid  her  face  from  him.  "  He  thinks  I  cheat ! 
Now,  Senor  Don  Ruz,  it  shall  be  for  the  guitar.  Do 
you  hear  ?" 

"Too  many  pesos,  senorita." 

"Oh,  oh!  the  miser!" 

"  I'm  not  going  broke  on  any  senoritas — not  even 
my  own  girl !" 

"  Have  you  no  newer  thing  than  poverty  to  tell  me  ? 
Now  if  you  look  at  me  like  that  I  cannot  shuffle  prop 
erly." 

"  How  am  I  to  look,  please  ?"  He  held  his  glance 
on  her. 

"  Not  foolish  like  a  boy.  There,  take  them,  then !" 
She  threw  the  cards  at  him,  blushing  and  perturbed  by 
his  eyes,  while  he  scrambled  to  punish  her  across  the 
table. 

"  Generous  one  !"  she  said.  "  Ardent  pretender ! 
He  won't  let  me  shuffle  because  he  fears  to  lose." 


186  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"You  shall  have  a  silk  handkerchief  with  flowers  on 
it,"  said  he,  shuffling. 

"I  have  two  already.  I  can  see  you  arranging 
those  cards,  miser !" 

It  was  the  custom  of  their  meetings,  whether  at  the 
cabin  or  whether  she  stole  out  to  his  camp,  to  play  for 
the  token  he  should  bring  for  her  when  he  next  came 
from  town.  She  named  one  thing,  he  some  other,  and 
the  cards  judged  between  them.  And  to  see  Genes- 
mere  in  these  hours,  his  oldest  friend  could  not  have 
known  him  any  more  than  he  knew  himself.  Never 
had  a  woman  been  for  him  like  Lolita,  conjuring  the 
Saxon  to  forget  himself  and  bask  openly  in  that  South 
ern  joy  and  laughter  of  the  moment. 

"  Say  my  name !"  he  ordered ;  and  at  the  child  ef 
fort  she  made  over  "Russ"  he  smiled  with  delight. 
"Again  !"  he  exclaimed,  bending  to  catch  her  J?  and 
the  whole  odd  little  word  she  made.  "  More !" 

"  No,"  pouted  the  girl,  and  beat  at  him,  blushing 
again. 

"  Make  your  bet !"  he  said,  laying  out  the  Mexican 
cards  before  him.  "  Quick  !  Which  shall  it  be  ?" 

"  The  caballo.  Oh,  my  dear,  I  wanted  to  die  this 
afternoon,  and  now  I  am  so  happy !" 

It  brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes,  and  almost  to  his, 
till  he  suddenly  declared  she  had  stolen  a  card,  and 
with  that  they  came  to  soft  blows  and  laughing  again. 
So  did  the  two  sit  and  wrangle,  seizing  the  pack  out  of 
turn,  feigning  rage  at  being  cheated,  until  he  juggled 
to  make  her  win  three  times  out  of  five ;  and  when 
chance  had  thus  settled  for  the  guitar,  they  played  for 
kisses,  and  so  forgot  the  cards  at  last  And  at  last 
Genesmere  began  to  speak  of  the  next  time,  and  Lolita 
to  forbid  such  talk  as  that  so  soon.  She  laid  her  hand 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  187 

over  his  lips,  at  which  he  yielded  for  a  little,  and  she 
improvised  questions  of  moment  to  ask  him,  without 
time  for  stopping,  until  she  saw  that  this  would  avail 
no  longer.  Then  she  sighed,  and  let  him  leave  her  to 
see  to  his  animals,  while  she  lighted  the  fire  again  to 
make  breakfast  for  him.  At  that  parting  meal  an 
anxiety  slowly  came  in  her  face,  and  it  was  she  that 
broke  their  silence  after  a  while. 

"  Which  road  do  you  go  this  time,  querido  ?"  she 
asked. 

"  Tucson,  Maricopa,  and  then  straight  here  to  you." 

"  From  Maricopa  ?   That  is  longer  across  the  desert." 

"  Shorter  to  my  girl." 

"  I — I  wish  you  would  not  come  that  way." 

"Why?" 

"  That— that  desert !" 

"  There's  desert  both  ways — all  ways.  The  other 
road  puts  an  extra  week  between  you  and  me." 

"Yes,  yes.     I  have  counted." 

"  What  is  all  this,  Lolita  ?" 

Once  more  she  hesitated,  smiling  uneasily  beneath 
his  scrutiny.  "  Yo  no  se  "  (I  don't  know).  "  You  will 
laugh.  You  do  not  believe  the  things  that  I  believe. 
The  Tinaja  Bonita— " 

"That  again!" 

"  Yes,"  she  half  whispered.     "  I  am  afraid." 

He  looked  at  her  steadily. 

"  Return  the  same  road  by  Tucson,"  she  urged. 
"  That  way  is  only  half  so  much  desert,  and  you  can 
carry  water  from  Poso  Blanco.  Do  not  trust  the  Co 
yote  Wells.  They  are  little  and  shallow,  and  if  the 
Black  Cross —  Oh,  my  darling,  if  you  do  not  believe, 
do  this  for  me  because  you  love  me,  love  me !" 

He  did  not  speak  at  once.     The  two  had  risen,  and 


188  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

stood  by  the  open  door,  where  the  dawn  was  entering 
and  mixing  with  the  lamp.  "  Because  I  love  you,"  he 
repeated  at  length,  slowly,  out  of  his  uncertain  thoughts. 

She  implored  him,  and  he  studied  her  in  silence. 

Suddenly  hardness  stamped  his  face.  "I'll  come 
by  Tucson,  then — since  I  love  you !"  And  he  walked 
at  once  out  of  the  door.  She  followed  him  to  his 
horse,  and  there  reached  up  and  pulled  him  round  to 
her,  locking  her  fingers  behind  his  neck.  Again  his 
passion  swept  him,  and  burned  the  doubt  from  his 
eyes.  "  I  believe  you  love  me !"  he  broke  out. 

"  Ah,  why  need  you  say  that  ?" 

"  Adios,  chiquita."  He  was  smiling,  and  she  looked 
at  his  white  teeth  and  golden  mustache.  She  felt  his 
hands  begin  to  unlock  her  own. 

"Not  yet — not  yet!" 

"  Adios,  chiquita." 

"  O  mi  querido !"  she  murmured ;  "  with  you  I  for 
get  day  and  night !" 

"  Bastante  !"     He  kissed  her  once  for  all. 

"  Good-bye  !  good-bye  !  Mis  labios  van  estar  frios 
hasta  que  tu  los  toques  otra  vez  "  (My  lips  will  be  cold 
until  you  touch  them  again). 

He  caught  her  two  hands,  as  if  to  cling  to  some 
thing.  "  Say  that  once  more.  Tell  me  that  once 
more." 

She  told  him  with  all  her  heart  and  soul,  and  he 
sprang  into  his  saddle.  She  went  beside  him  through 
the  cold,  pale-lighted  trees  to  the  garden's  edge,  and 
there  stood  while  he  took  his  way  across  the  barren 
ground  among  the  carcasses.  She  watched  the  tip  of 
his  mustache  that  came  beyond  the  line  of  his  cheek, 
and  when  he  was  farther,  his  whole  strong  figure,  while 
the  clack  of  the  hoofs  on  the  dead  ground  grew  fainter. 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  189 

When  the  steeper  fall  of  the  canon  hid  him  from  her 
she  ran  to  the  house,  and  from  its  roof  among  her  pep 
pers  she  saw  him  come  into  sight  again  below,  the 
wide,  foreshortened  slant  of  ground  between  them,  the 
white  horse  and  dark  rider  and  the  mules,  until  they 
became  a  mere  line  of  something  moving,  and  so  van 
ished  into  the  increasing  day. 

Genesmere  rode,  and  took  presently  to  smoking. 
Coming  to  a  sandy  place,  he  saw  prints  of  feet  and  of 
a  shod  horse  in  the  trail  heading  the  other  way.  That 
was  his  own  horse,  and  the  feet  were  Lolita's  and 
Luis's — the  record  and  the  memory  of  yesterday  af 
ternoon.  He  looked  up  from  the  trail  to  the  hills, 
now  lambent  with  violet  and  shifting  orange,  and 
their  shapes  as  they  moved  out  into  his  approaching 
view  were  the  shapes  of  yesterday  afternoon.  He 
came  soon  to  the  forking  of  the  trails,  one  for  Tuc 
son  and  the  other  leading  down  into  the  lumpy  coun 
try,  and  here  again  were  the  prints  in  the  sand,  the 
shod  horse,  the  man  and  the  woman,  coming  in  from 
the  lumpy  country  that  lay  to  the  left ;  and  Genes- 
mere  found  himself  stock  -  still  by  the  forking  trails, 
looking  at  his  watch.  His  many- journeyed  mules 
knew  which  was  the  Tucson  trail,  and,  not  understand 
ing  why  he  turned  them  from  their  routine,  walked 
asunder,  puzzled  at  being  thus  driven  in  the  wrong 
direction.  They  went  along  a  strange  up-and-down 
path,  loose  with  sliding  stones,  and  came  to  an  end 
at  a  ledge  of  slate,  and  stood  about  on  the  tricky  foot 
ing  looking  at  their  master  and  leaning  their  heads 
together.  The  master  sat  quiet  on  his  horse,  staring 
down  where  a  circular  pool  lay  below;  and  the  sun 
rose  everywhere,  except  in  his  mind.  So  far  had  he 
come  yesterday  with  that  mind  easy  over  his  garnered 


igo  RED   MEN    AND   WHITE 

prosperity,  free  and  soaring  on  its  daily  flight  among 
the  towers  of  his  hopes — those  constructions  that  are 
common  with  men  who  grow  fond :  the  air-castle 
rises  and  reaches,  possessing  the  architect,  who  cher 
ishes  its  slow  creation  with  hourly  changes  and  addi 
tions  to  the  plan.  A  house  was  part  of  Genesmere's 
castle,  a  home  with  a  wife  inside,  and  no  more  camp 
ing  alone.  Thus  far,  to  this  exact  ledge,  the  edifice 
had  gone  forward  fortunately,  and  then  a  blast  had 
crumbled  house  and  days  to  come  into  indistinguish 
able  dust.  The  heavy  echo  jarred  in  Genesmere,  now 
that  he  had  been  lured  to  look  again  upon  the  site  of 
the  disaster,  and  a  lightning  violence  crossed  his  face. 
He  saw  the  two  down  there  as  they  had  stood,  the 
man  with  his  arms  holding  the  woman,  before  the  fall 
ing  stone  had  startled  them.  Were  the  Mexican 
present  now  in  the  flesh,  he  would  destroy  him  just 
for  what  he  had  tried  to  do.  If  she  were  true —  She 
was  true — that  was  no  thanks  to  the  Mexican.  Genes- 
mere  was  sorry  second  thoughts  had  spared  that  fel 
low  yesterday,  and  he  looked  at  his  watch  again.  It 
was  time  to  be  starting  on  the  Tucson  trail,  and  the 
mules  alertly  turned  their  steps  from  the  Tinaja  Bo- 
nita.  They  could  see  no  good  in  having  come  here. 
Evidently  it  was  not  to  get  water.  Why,  then  ?  What 
use  was  there  in  looking  down  a  place  into  a  hole  ? 
The  mules  gave  it  up.  Genesmere  himself  thought 
the  Tinaja  poorly  named.  It  was  not  pretty.  In  his 
experience  of  trail  and  canon  he  knew  no  other  such 
hole.  He  was  not  aware  of  the  twin,  dried  up,  thirty 
yards  below,  and  therefore  only  half  knew  the  won 
ders  of  the  spot. 

He  rode  back  to  the  forks  across  the  rolling  steep 
ness,  rebuilding  the  castle  ;  then,  discovering  some- 


LA  TINAJA   BONITA  igt 

thing  too  distant  to  be  sure  about,  used  his  glass 
quickly.  It  was  another  rider,  also  moving  slowly 
among  the  knolls  and  gullies  of  the  mesa,  and  Genes- 
mere  could  not  make  him  out.  He  was  going  towards 
the  cabin,  but  it  was  not  the  same  horse  that  Luis 
had  ridden  yesterday.  This  proved  nothing,  and  it 
would  be  easy  to  circle  and  see  the  man  closer — only 
not  worth  the  trouble.  Let  the  Mexican  go  to  the 
cabin.  Let  him  go  every  day.  He  probably  would, 
if  she  permitted.  Most  likely  she  would  tell  him  to 
keep  away  from  her.  She  ought  to.  She  might  hurt 
him  if  he  annoyed  her.  She  was  a  good  shot  with 
a  pistol.  But  women  work  differently  from  men — 
and  then  she  was  Mexican.  She  might  hide  her 
feelings  and  make  herself  pleasant  for  three  weeks. 
She  would  tell  him  when  he  returned,  and  they  would 
laugh  together  over  how  she  had  fooled  this  Luis. 
After  all,  shooting  would  have  been  too  much  punish 
ment.  A  man  with  a  girl  like  Lolita  must  expect  to 
find  other  men  after  her.  It  depends  on  your  girl. 
You  find  that  out  when  you  go  after  other  men's 
girls.  When  a  woman  surely  loves  some  other  man 
she  will  not  look  at  you.  And  Lolita's  love  was  a 
sure  thing.  A  woman  can  say  love  and  a  man  will 
believe  her  —  until  he  has  experienced  the  genuine 
article  once ;  after  that  he  can  always  tell.  And  to 
have  a  house,  with  her  inside  waiting  for  you  !  Such 
a  turn  was  strange  luck  for  a  man,  not  to  be  ac 
counted  for.  If  anybody  had  said  last  year — why, 
as  late  as  the  2oth  of  last  March  —  that  settling 
down  was  what  you  were  coming  to  —  and  now — 
Genesmere  wondered  how  he  could  ever  have  seen 
anything  in  riding  a  horse  up  and  down  the  earth 
and  caring  nothing  for  what  next.  "  No  longer 


192  RED  ME,N  AND  WHITE 

alone !"  he  said  aloud,  suddenly,  and  surprised  the 
white  horse. 

The  song  about  the  hunchback  and  the  sacristan's 
cat  stirred  its  rhythm  in  his  mind.  He  was  not  a 
singer,  but  he  could  think  the  tune,  trace  it,  naked  of 
melody,  in  the  dry  realm  of  the  brain.  And  it  was 
a  diversion  to  piece  out  the  gait  of  the  phantom 
notes,  low  after  high,  quick  after  slow,  until  they  went 
of  themselves.  Lolita  would  never  kiss  Luis  again ; 
would  never  want  to — not  even  as  a  joke.  Genes- 
mere  turned  his  head  back  to  take  another  look  at  the 
rider,  and  there  stood  the  whole  mountains  like  a 
picture,  and  himself  far  out  in  the  flat  country,  and 
the  bare  sun  in  the  sky.  He  had  come  six  miles  on 
the  road  since  he  had  last  noticed.  Six  miles,  and 
the  air-castle  was  rebuilt  and  perfect,  with  no  differ 
ence  from  the  old  one  except  its  foundation,  which 
was  upon  sand.  To  see  the  unexpected  plain  around 
him,  and  the  islands  of  blue,  sharp  peaks  lying  in  it, 
drove  the  tune  from  his  head,  and  he  considered  the 
well-known  country,  reflecting  that  man  could  not  be 
meant  to  live  here.  The  small  mountain-islands  lay 
at  all  distances,  blue  in  a  dozen  ways,  amid  the  dead 
calm  of  this  sand  archipelago.  They  rose  singly  from 
it,  sheer  and  sudden,  toothed  and  triangled  like  ice 
bergs,  hot  as  stoves.  The  channels  to  the  north, 
Santa  Rosa  way,  opened  broad  and  yellow,  and  ended 
without  shore  upon  the  clean  horizon,  and  to  the  south 
narrowed  with  lagoons  into  Sonora.  Genesmere  could 
just  see  one  top  of  the  Sierra  de  la  Quitabac  jutting 
up  from  below  the  earth-line,  splitting  the  main  chan 
nel,  the  faintest  blue  of  all.  They  could  be  having 
no  trouble  over  their  water  down  there,  with  the 
Laguna  Esperanca  and  the  Poso  de  Mazis.  Genes- 


L4    TINAJA   BONITA  193 

mere  killed  some  more  of  the  way  rehearsing  the 
trails  and  water-holes  of  this  country,  known  to  him 
like  his  pocket;  and  by-and-by  food-cooking  and 
mule-feeding  and  the  small  machine  repetitions  of  a 
camp  and  a  journey  brought  the  Quijotoa  Mountains 
behind  him  to  replace  Gun  Sight  and  the  Sierra  de  la 
Naril ;  and  later  still  the  Cababi  hid  the  Quijotoa, 
and  Genesmere  counted  days  and  nights  to  the  good, 
and  was  at  the  Coyote  Wells. 

These  were  holes  in  rocks,  but  shallow,  as  Lolita 
said.  No  shallower  than  ordinary,  however;  he 
would  see  on  the  way  back  if  they  gave  signs  of  fail 
ing.  No  wonder  if  they  did,  with  this  spell  of  drought 
— but  why  mix  up  a  plain  thing  with  a  lot  of  nonsense 
about  a  black  cross  down  a  hole?  Genesmere  was 
critically  struck  with  the  words  of  the  tune  he  now 
noticed  steadily  running  in  his  head  again,  beneath 
the  random  surface  of  his  thoughts. 

"Cinco  dragones  y  un  cabo, 
Y  un  gato  de  sacristan." 

That  made  no  sense  either ;  but  Mexicans  found 
something  in  it.  Liked  it.  Now  American  songs 
had  some  sense : 

"  They  bathed  his  head  in  vinegar 

To  fetch  him  up  to  time, 
And  now  he  drives  a  mule  team  on 
The  Denver  City  line." 

A  man  could  understand  that.  A  proud  stage- 
driver  makes  a  mistake  about  a  female  passenger. 
Thinks  he  has  got  an  heiress,  and  she  turns  out  to 
peddle  sarsaparilla.  "  So  he's  naturally  used  up," 
commented  Genesmere.  "You  estimate  a  girl  as  one 
thing,  and  she — "  Here  the  undercurrent  welled  up, 


194  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

breaking  the  surface.  "Did  she  mean  that?  Was 
that  her  genuine  reason  ?"  In  memory  he  took  a  look 
at  his  girl's  face,  and  repeated  her  words  when  she 
besought  him  to  come  the  longer  way  and  hesitated 
over  why.  Was  that  shame  at  owning  she  believed 
such  stuff?  True,  after  asking  him  once  about  his 
religion  and  hearing  what  he  said,  she  had  never 
spoken  of  these  things  again.  That  must  be  a 
woman's  way  when  she  loved  you  first — to  hide  her 
notions  that  differed  from  yours,  and  not  ruffle  happy 
days.  "Return  the  same  road  by  Tucson  !"  He  un 
wrapped  a  clean,  many-crumpled  handkerchief,  and 
held  Lolita's  photograph  for  a  while.  Then  he  burst 
into  an  unhappy  oath,  and  folded  the  picture  up 
again.  What  if  her  priest  did  tell  her?  He  had 
heard  th£  minister  tell  about  eternal  punishment  when 
he  was  a  boy,  and  just  as  soon  as  he  started  thinking 
it  over  he  knew  it  was  a  lie.  And  this  quack  Tinaja  was 
worse  foolishness,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  re 
ligion.  Lolita  afraid  of  his  coming  to  grief  in  a  coun 
try  he  had  travelled  hundreds,  thousands  of  miles  in ! 
Perhaps  she  had  never  started  thinking  for  herself 
yet.  But  she  had.  She  was  smarter  than  any  girl  of 
her  age  he  had  ever  seen.  She  did  not  want  him  back 
so  soon.  That  was  what  it  was.  Yet  she  had  looked 
true;  her  voice  had  sounded  that  way.  Again  he 
dwelt  upon  her  words  and  caresses ;  and  harboring 
these  various  thoughts,  he  killed  still  more  of  the  long 
road,  until,  passing  after  awhile  Poso  Blanco,  and  later 
Marsh's  ranch-well  at  the  forks  where  the  Sonora  road 
comes  in,  he  reached  Tucson  a  man  divided  against 
himself.  Divided  beyond  his  will  into  two  selves — 
one  of  faith  besieged,  and  one  of  besieging  inimical 
reason — the  inextricable  error  I 


LA   TINAJA   BONITA  195 

Business  and  pleasure  were  waiting  in  Tucson,  and 
friends  whose  ways  and  company  had  not  been  of  late 
for  him ;  but  he  frequented  them  this  time,  tasting  no 
pleasure,  yet  finding  the  ways  and  company  better 
than  his  own.  After  the  desert's  changeless,  unfath- 
omed  silence,  in  which  nothing  new  came  day  or  night 
to  break  the  fettering  spell  his  mind  was  falling  under, 
the  clink  and  knocking  of  bottles  was  good  to  hear, 
and  he  listened  for  more,  craving  any  sound  that  might 
liven  or  distract  his  haunted  spirit.  Instead  of  the  sun 
and  stars,  here  was  a  roof;  instead  of  the  pitiless  clear 
air,  here  was  tobacco  smoke;  and  beneath  his  boot- 
heels  a  wooden  floor  wet  with  spilled  liquids  instead  of 
the  unwatered  crumbling  sand.  Without  drinking,  he 
moved  his  chair  near  the  noisiest  drinkers,  and  thus 
among  the  tobacco  smoke  sought  to  hide  from  his  own 
looming  doubt.  Later  the  purring  tinkle  of  guitars  re 
minded  him  of  that  promised  present,  and  the  next 
morning  he  was  the  owner  of  the  best  instrument  that 
he  could  buy.  Leaving  it  with  a  friend  to  keep  until 
he  should  come  through  again  from  Maricopa,  he  de 
parted  that  way  with  his  mules,  finding  in  the  new 
place  the  same  sort  of  friends  and  business,  and  by 
night  looking  upon  the  same  untasted  pleasures.  He 
went  about  town  with  some  cattlemen — carousing  bank 
rupts,  who  remembered  their  ruin  in  the  middle  of 
whiskey,  and  broke  off  to  curse  it  and  the  times  and 
climate,  and  their  starved  herds  that  none  would  buy 
at  any  price.  Genesmere  touched  nothing,  yet  still 
drew  his  chair  among  these  drinkers. 

"  Aren't  you  feeling  good  to-night,  Russ  ?"  asked  one 
at  length. 

And  Genesmere's  eyes  roused  from  seeing  visions, 
and  his  ears  became  aware  of  the  loud  company.  In 


196  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

Tucson  he  had  been  able  to  sit  in  the  smoke,  and  com 
pass  a  cheerful  deceit  of  appearance  even  to  himself. 
Choosing  and  buying  the  guitar  had  lent  reality  to  his 
imitated  peace  of  mind ;  he  had  been  careful  over  its 
strings,  selecting  such  as  Lolita  preferred,  wrapt  in 
carrying  out  this  spiritual  forgery  of  another  Genes- 
mere.  But  here  they  had  noticed  him  ;  appearances 
had  slipped  from  him.  He  listened  to  a  piece  of  late 
Arizona  news  some  one  was  in  the  middle  of  telling — 
the  trial  of  several  Mormons  for  robbing  a  paymaster 
near  Cedar  Springs.  This  was  the  fourth  time  he  had 
heard  the  story,  because  it  was  new ;  but  the  present 
narrator  dwelt  upon  the  dodgings  of  a  witness,  a  ne- 
gress,  who  had  seen  everything  and  told  nothing,  out 
witting  the  government,  furnishing  no  proofs.  This 
brought  Genesmere  quite  back. 

"  No  proofs  !"  he  muttered.  "  No  proofs  !"  He 
laughed  and  became  alert.  "  She  lied  to  them  good, 
did  she  ?" 

They  looked  at  him,  because  he  had  not  spoken  for 
so  long;  and  he  was  told  that  she  had  certainly  lied 
good. 

"  Fooled  them  clean  through,  did  she  ?  On  oath  ! 
Tell  about  her." 

The  flattered  narrator,  who  had  been  in  court,  gave 
all  he  knew,  and  Genesmere  received  each  morsel  of 
perjury  gravely  with  a  nod.  He  sat  still  when  the 
story  was  done. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  after  a  time.  "  Yes."  And  again, 
"Yes."  Then  he  briefly  bade  the  boys  good-night, 
and  went  out  from  the  lamps  and  whiskey  into  the 
dark. 

He  walked  up  and  down  alone,  round  the  corral 
where  his  mules  stood,  round  the  stable  where  his 


LA  TINAJA   BONITA  197 

bed-blankets  were  ;  and  one  or  two  carousers  came  by, 
who  suggested  further  enjoyments  to  him.  He  went 
to  the  edge  of  the  town  and  walked  where  passers 
would  not  meet  him,  turning  now  and  then  to  look  in 
the  direction  of  Tucson,  where  the  guitar  was  waiting. 
When  he  felt  the  change  of  dawn  he  went  to  the  sta 
ble,  and  by  the  first  early  gray  had  his  mules  packed. 
He  looked  once  again  towards  Tucson,  and  took  the 
road  he  had  promised  not  to  take,  leaving  the  guitar 
behind  him  altogether.  His  faith  protested  a  little, 
but  the  other  self  invented  a  quibble,  the  mockery  that 
he  had  already  "come  by  Tucson,"  according  to  his 
literal  word ;  and  this  device  answered.  It  is  a  com 
fort  to  be  divided  no  longer  against  one's  self.  Gen- 
esmere  was  at  ease  in  his  thraldom  to  the  demon  with 
whom  he  had  wrestled  through  the  dark  hours.  As 
the  day  brightened  he  wondered  how  he  had  come  to 
fool  a  night  away  over  a  promise  such  as  that.  He 
took  out  the  face  in  the  handkerchief,  and  gave  it  a 
curious,  defiant  smile.  She  had  said  waiting  would 
be  long.  She  should  have  him  quickly.  And  he 
was  going  to  know  about  that  visitor  at  the  cabin, 
the  steeple-hatted  man  he  saw  in  his  visions.  So 
Maricopa  drew  behind  him,  small,  clear-grouped  in  the 
unheated  morning,  and  the  sun  found  the  united  man 
and  his  mules  moving  into  the  desert. 

By  the  well  in  the  bottom  of  the  Santa  Cruz  River 
he  met  with  cattle  and  little  late-born  calves  trying  to 
trot.  Their  mothers,  the  foreman  explained,  had  not 
milk  enough  for  them,  nor  the  cursed  country  food  or 
water  for  the  mothers.  They  could  not  chew  cactus. 
These  animals  had  been  driven  here  to  feed  and  fatten 
inexpensively,  and  get  quick  money  for  the  owner. 
But,  instead,  half  of  them  had  died,  and  the  men  were 


198  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

driving  the  rest  to  new  pastures — as  many,  that  is,  as 
could  still  walk.  Genesmere  knew,  the  foreman  sup 
posed,  that  this  well  was  the  last  for  more  than  a  hun 
dred  miles?  Funny  to  call  a  thing  like  that  Santa 
Cruz  a  river!  Well,  it  was  an  Arizona  river;  all  right 
enough,  no  doubt,  somewhere  a  thousand  feet  or  so 
underground.  Pity  you  weren't  a  prairie-dog  that 
eats  sand  when  he  gets  a  thirst  on  him.  Got  any  to 
bacco  ?  Good-bye. 

Think  of  any  valleys  that  you  know  between  high 
mountains.  Such  was  southern  Arizona  once — before 
we  came.  Then  fill  up  your  valleys  with  sand  until 
the  mountains  show  no  feet  or  shoulders,  but  become 
as  men  buried  to  the  neck.  That  is  what  makes  sep 
arate  islands  of  their  protruding  peaks,  and  that  is  why 
water  slinks  from  the  surface  whenever  it  can  and 
flows  useless  underneath,  entombed  in  the  original  val 
ley.  This  is  Arizona  now — since  the  pterodactyls  have 
gone.  In  such  a  place  the  traveller  turns  mariner, 
only,  instead  of  the  stars,  he  studies  the  water-wells, 
shaping  his  course  by  these.  Not  sea-gulls,  but  ra 
vens,  fly  over  this  waste,  seeking  their  meal.  Some 
were  in  front  of  Genesmere  now,  settled  black  in  the 
recent  trail  of  the  cattle.  He  did  not  much  care  that 
the  last  well  was  gone  by,  for  he  was  broken  in  by  long 
travel  to  the  water  of  the  'dobe-holes  that  people  rely 
upon  through  this  journey.  These  'dobe-holes  are  oc 
casional  wallows  in  clayey  spots,  and  men  and  cattle 
know  each  one.  The  cattle,  of  course,  roll  in  them, 
and  they  become  worn  into  circular  hollows,  their  edges 
tramped  into  muck,  and  surrounded  by  a  thicket  belt 
of  mesquite.  The  water  is  not  good,  but  will  save  life. 
The  first  one  lay  two  stages  from  the  well,  and  Genes- 
mere  accordingly  made  an  expected  dry  camp  the  first 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  199 

night,  carrying  water  from  the  well  in  the  Santa  Cruz, 
and  dribbling  all  of  it  but  a  cupful  among  his  animals, 
and  the  second  night  reached  his  calculated  'dobe-hole. 
The  animals  rolled  luxuriously  in  the  brown,  dungy 
mixture,  and  Genesmere  made  his  coffee  strong.  He 
had  had  no  shade  at  the  first  camp,  and  here  it  was 
good  under  the  tangle  of  the  mesquite,  and  he  slept 
sound.  He  was  early  awakened  by  the  ravens,  whose 
loose,  dislocated  croaking  came  from  where  they  sat  at 
breakfast  on  the  other  side  of  the  wallow.  They  had 
not  suspected  his  presence  among  the  mesquite,  and 
when  he  stepped  to  the  mud-hole  and  dipped  its  gum 
my  fluid  in  his  coffee-pot  they  rose  hoarse  and  hover 
ing,  and  flapped  twenty  yards  away,  and  sat  watching 
until  he  was  gone  into  the  desert,  when  they  clouded 
back  again  round  their  carrion. 

This  day  was  over  ground  yellow  and  hard  with 
dearth,  until  afternoon  brought  a  footing  of  sifting 
sand  heavy  to  travel  in.  He  had  plenty  of  time  for 
thinking.  His  ease  after  the  first  snapping  from  his 
promise  had  changed  to  an  eagerness  to  come  un 
awares  and  catch  the  man  in  the  steeple-hat.  Till 
that  there  could  be  no  proofs.  Genesmere  had  along 
the  road  nearly  emptied  his  second  canteen  of  its 
brown-amber  drink,  wetting  the  beasts'  tongues  more 
than  his  own.  The  neighborhood  of  the  next  'dobe- 
hole  might  be  known  by  the  three  miles  of  cactus  you 
went  through  before  coming  on  it,  a  wide-set  planta 
tion  of  the  yucca.  The  posted  plants  deployed  over 
the  plain  in  strange  extended  order  like  legions  and 
legions  of  figures,  each  shock-head  of  spears  bunched 
bristling  at  the  top  of  its  lank,  scaly  stalk,  and  out  of 
that  stuck  the  blossom-pole,  a  pigtail  on  end,  with  its 
knot  of  bell-flowers  seeded  to  pods  ten  feet  in  the  air. 


200  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

Genesmere's  horse  started  and  nearly  threw  him,  but 
it  was  only  a  young  calf  lying  for  shade  by  a  yucca. 
Genesmere  could  tell  from  its  unlicked  hide  that  the 
mother  had  gone  to  hunt  water,  and  been  away  for 
some  time.  This  unseasonable  waif  made  a  try  at 
running  away,  but  fell  in  a  heap,  and  lay  as  man  and 
mules  passed  on.  Presently  he  passed  a  sentinel 
cow.  She  stood  among  the  thorns  guarding  the  calves 
of  her  sisters  till  they  should  return  from  getting  their 
water.  The  desert  cattle  learn  this  shift,  and  the  sen 
tinel  now,  at  the  stranger's  approach,  lowered  her 
head,  and  with  a  feeble  but  hostile  sound  made  ready 
to  protect  her  charge,  keeping  her  face  to  the  passing 
enemy.  Farther  along  gaunt  cows  stood  or  lay  under 
the  perpetual  yuccas,  an  animal  to  every  plant.  They 
stared  at  Genesmere  passing  on ;  some  rose  to  look 
after  him ;  some  lifted  their  heads  from  the  ground, 
and  seeing,  laid  them  down  again.  He  came  upon  a 
calf  watching  its  mother,  who  had  fallen  in  such  a 
position  that  the  calf  could  not  suck.  The  cow's  fore 
leg  was  caught  over  her  own  head,  and  so  she  held 
herself  from  rising.  The  sand  was  rolled  and  grooved 
into  a  wheel  by  her  circlings  •  her  body  heaved  and 
fell  with  breathing,  and  the  sand  was  wet  where  her 
pivot  nostrils  had  ground  it.  While  Genesmere  un 
tangled  her  and  gave  her  tongue  the  last  of  his  can 
teen  the  calf  walked  round  and  round.  He  placed 
the  cow  upon  her  feet,  and  as  soon  as  he  moved 
away  to  his  horse  the  calf  came  to  its  mother,  who 
began  to  lick  it.  He  presently  marked  ahead  the  po 
sition  of  the  coming  'dobe-hole  by  the  ravens  assem 
bled  in  the  air,  continually  rising  and  lighting.  The 
white  horse  and  mules  quickened  their  step,  and  the 
trail  became  obliterated  by  hundreds  of  hoof-marks 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  2OI 

leading  to  the  water.  As  a  spider  looks  in  the  cen 
tre  of  an  empty  web,  so  did  the  round  wallow  sit  in 
the  middle  of  the  plain,  with  threaded  feet  conduct 
ing  from  everywhere  to  it.  Mules  and  white  horse 
scraped  through  the  scratching  mesquite,  and  the 
ravens  flapped  up.  To  Genesmere  their  croaking 
seemed  suddenly  to  fill  all  space  with  loud  total 
clamor,  for  no  water  was  left,  only  mud.  He  eased 
the  animals  of  their  loads  and  saddles,  and  they  rolled 
in  the  stiff  mud,  squeezing  from  it  a  faint  ooze,  and 
getting  a  sort  of  refreshment.  Genesmere  chewed 
the  mud,  and  felt  sorry  for  the  beasts.  He  turned 
both  canteens  upsidedown  and  licked  the  bungs.  A 
cow  had  had  his  last  drink.  Well,  that  would  keep 
her  alive  several  hours  more.  Hardly  worth  while ; 
but  spilled  milk  decidedly.  Milk  !  That  was  an  idea. 
He  caught  animal  after  animal,  and  got  a  few  sickly 
drops.  There  was  no  gain  in  camping  at  this  spot, 
no  water  for  coffee;  so  Genesmere  moved  several 
hundred  yards  away  to  be  rid  of  the  ravens  and  their 
all-day-long  meal  and  the  smell.  He  lay  thinking 
what  to  do.  Go  back  ?  At  the  rate  he  could  push 
the  animals  now  that  last  hole  might  be  used  up  by 
the  cattle  before  he  got  there — and  then  it  was  two 
stages  more  to  the  Santa  Cruz  well.  And  the  man 
would  be  gaining  just  so  many  more  days  unhindered 
at  the  cabin.  Out  of  the  question.  Forward,  it  was 
one  shortish  drive  to  the  next  hole.  If  that  were  dry, 
he  could  forsake  the  trail  and  make  a  try  by  a  short 
cut  for  that  Tinaja  place.  And  he  must  start  soon, 
too,  as  soon  as  the  animals  could  stand  it,  and  travel 
by  night  and  rest  when  the  sun  got  bad.  What  busi 
ness  had  October  to  be  hot  like  this  ?  So  in  the  dark 
ness  he  mounted  again,  and  noon  found  him  with 


202  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

eyes  shut  under  a  yucca.  It  was  here  that  he  held  a 
talk  with  Lolita.  They  were  married,  and  sitting  in 
a  room  with  curtains  that  let  you  see  flowers  growing 
outside  by  the  window,  as  he  had  always  intended. 
Lolita  said  to  him  that  there  was  no  fool  like  an  old 
fool,  and  he  was  telling  her  that  love  could  make  a 
man  more  a  fool  than  age,  when  she  threw  the  door 
open,  letting  in  bright  light,  and  said,  "No  proofs." 
The  bright  light  was  the  real  sun  coming  round  the 
yucca  on  his  face,  and  he  sat  up  and  saw  the  desert. 
No  cows  were  here,  but  he  noticed  the  roughened 
hides  and  sunk  eyes  of  his  own  beasts,  and  spoke  to 
them. 

"Cheer  up,  Jeff!  Stonewall!"  He  stopped  at  the 
pain.  It  was  in  his  lips  and  mouth.  He  put  up  his 
hand,  and  the  feel  of  his  tongue  frightened  him.  He 
looked  round  to  see  what  country  he  was  in,  and  noted 
the  signs  that  it  was  not  so  very  far  now.  The  blue 
crags  of  the  islands  were  showing,  and  the  blue  sterile 
sky  spread  over  them  and  the  ceaseless  sunlight  like  a 
plague.  Man  and  horse  and  mules  were  the  only  life 
in  the  naked  bottom  of  this  caldron.  The  mirage  had 
caught  the  nearest  island,  and  blunted  and  dissolved 
its  points  and  frayed  its  base  away  to  a  transparent 
fringe. 

"  Like  a  lump  of  sugar  melts  in  hot  tod,"  remarked 
Genesmere,  aloud,  and  remembered  his  thickened 
mouth  again.  "  I  can  stand  it  off  for  a  while  yet, 
though — if  they  can  travel."  His  m.ules  looked  at 
him  when  he  came — looked  when  he  tightened  their 
cinches.  "  I  know,  Jeff,"  he  said,  and  inspected  the 
sky.  "  No  heaven's  up  there.  Nothing's  back  of  that 
thing,  unless  it's  hell." 

He  got  the  animals  going,  and  the  next  'dobe-hole 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  203 

was  like  the  last,  and  busy  with  the  black  flapping  of 
the  birds.  "  You  didn't  fool  me,"  said  Genesmere, 
addressing  the  mud.  "  I  knew  you'd  be  dry."  His 
eye  ran  over  the  cattle,  that  lay  in  various  conditions. 
"That  foreman  was  not  too  soon  getting  his  live 
stock  out  of  your  country,"  he  continued  to  the  hole, 
his  tongue  clacking  as  it  made  his  words.  "  This  live 
stock  here's  not  enjoying  itself  like  its  owners  in  town. 
This  live-stock  was  intended  for  Eastern  folks'  dinner. 
— But  you've  got  ahead  of  'em  this  trip,"  he  said  to 
the  ravens.  He  laughed  loudly,  and,  hearing  himself, 
stopped,  and  his  face  became  stern.  "  You  don't 
want  to  talk  this  way,  Russ  Genesmere.  Shut  your 
head.  You're  alone. — I  wish  I'd  never  known  !"  he 
suddenly  cried  out. 

He  went  to  his  animals  and  sat  down  by  them, 
clasping  and  unclasping  his  hands.  The  mules  were 
lying  down  on  the  baked  mud  of  the  wallow  with  their 
loads  on,  and  he  loosed  them.  He  stroked  his  white 
horse  for  some  little  while,  thinking  ;  and  it  was  in  his 
heart  that  he  had  brought  these  beasts  into  this  scrape. 
It  was  sunset  and  cool.  Against  the  divine  fires  of 
the  west  the  peaks  towered  clear  in  splendor  impassive, 
and  forever  aloof,  and  the  universe  seemed  to  fill  with 
infinite  sadness.  "If  she'll  tell  me  it's  not  so,"  he 
said,  "  I'll  believe  her.  I  will  believe  her  now.  I'll 
make  myself.  She'll  help  me  to."  He  took  what 
rest  he  dared,  and  started  up  from  it  much  later  than 
he  had  intended,  having  had  the  talk  with  Lolita  again 
in  the  room  with  the  curtains.  It  was  nine  when  he 
set  out  for  the  short-cut  under  the  moon,  dazed  by  his 
increasing  torture.  The  brilliant  disk,  blurring  to  the 
eye,  showed  the  mountains  unearthly  plain,  beautiful, 
and  tall  in  the  night.  By-and-by  a  mule  fell  and  could 


204  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

not  rise,  and  Genesmere  decided  it  was  as  well  for  all 
to  rest  again.  The  next  he  knew  it  was  blazing  sun 
shine,  and  the  sky  at  the  same  time  bedded  invisible 
in  black  clouds.  And  when  his  hand  reached  for  a 
cloud  that  came  bellying  down  to  him,  it  changed  into 
a  pretzel,  and  salt  burned  in  his  mouth  at  the  sight  of 
it.  He  turned  away  and  saw  the  hot,  unshaded  moun 
tains  wrinkled  in  the  sun,  glazed  and  shrunk,  gullied 
like  the  parchment  of  an  old  man's  throat ;  and  then 
he  saw  a  man  in  a  steeple-hat.  He  could  no  more  lay 
the  spectre  that  wasted  his  mind  than  the  thirst-demon 
which  raged  in  his  body.  He  shut  his  eyes,  and  then 
his  arm  was  beating  at  something  to  keep  it  away. 
Pillowed  on  his  saddle,  he  beat  until  he  forgot.  A 
blow  at  the  corner  of  his  eye  brought  him  up  sitting, 
and  a  raven  jumped  from  his  chest. 

"  You're  not  experienced,"  said  Genesmere.  "  I'm 
not  dead  yet.  But  I'm  obliged  to  you  for  being  so  en 
terprising.  You've  cleared  my  head.  Quit  that  talk, 
Russ  Genesmere."  He  went  to  the  mule  that  had 
given  out  during  the  night.  "  Poor  Jeff  !  We  must 
lighten  your  pack.  Now  if  that  hunchback  had  died 
here,  the  birds  would  have  done  his  business  for  him 
without  help  from  any  of  your  cats.  Am  I  saying 
that,  now,  or  only  thinking  it  ?  I  know  I'm  alone. 
I've  travelled  that  way  in  this  world.  Why?"  He 
turned  his  face,  expecting  some  one  to  answer,  and  the 
answer  came  in  a  fierce  voice  :  "Because  you're  a 
man,  and  can  stand  this  world  off  by  yourself.  You 
look  to  no  one."  He  suddenly  took  out  the  handker 
chief  and  tore  the  photograph  to  scraps.  "That's 
lightened  my  pack  all  it  needs.  Now  for  these  boys, 
or  they'll  never  make  camp."  He  took  what  the  mules 
carried,  his  merchandise,  and  hid  it  carefully  between 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  30$ 

stones — for  they  had  come  near  the  mountain  country 
— and,  looking  at  the  plain  he  was  leaving,  he  saw  a 
river.  "  Ha,  ha  !"  he  said,  slyly ;  "  you're  not  there, 
though.  And  I'll  prove  it  to  you."  He  chose  another 
direction,  and  saw  another  flowing  river.  "  I  was  ex 
pecting  you,"  he  stated,  quietly.  "  Don't  bother  me. 
I'm  thirsty." 

But  presently  as  he  journeyed  he  saw  lying  to  his 
right  a  wide,  fertile  place,  with  fruit-trees  and  water 
everywhere.  "  Peaches  too  !"  he  sang  out,  and  sprang 
off  to  run,  but  checked  himself  in  five  steps.  "  I  don't 
seem  able  to  stop  your  foolish  talking,"  he  said,  "but 
you  shall  not  chase  around  like  that.  You'll  stay  with 
me.  I  tell  you  that's  a  sham.  Look  at  it."  Obedient, 
he  looked  hard  at  it,  and  the  cactus  and  rocks  thrust 
through  the  watery  image  of  the  lake  like  two  photo 
graphs  on  the  same  plate.  He  shouted  with  strangling 
triumph,  and  continued  shouting  until  brier-roses  along 
a  brook  and  a  farm-house  unrolled  to  his  left,  and  he 
ran  half-way  there,  calling  his  mother's  name.  "  Why, 
you  fool,  she's  dead  !"  He  looked  slowly  at  his  cut 
hands,  for  he  had  fallen  among  stones.  "  Dead,  back 
in  Kentucky,  ever  so  long  ago,"  he  murmured,  softly. 
"  Didn't  stay  to  see  you  get  wicked."  Then  he  grew 
stern  again.  "You've  showed  yourself  up,  and  you 
can't  tell  land  from  water.  You're  going  to  let  the 
boys  take  you  straight.  I  don't  trust  you." 

He  started  the  mules,  and  caught  hold  of  his  horse's 
tail,  and  they  set  out  in  single  file,  held  steady  by  their 
instinct,  stumbling  ahead  for  the  water  they  knew 
among  the  mountains.  Mules  led,  and  the  shouting 
man  brought  up  the  rear,  clutching  the  white  tail  like 
a  rudder,  his  feet  sliding  along  through  the  stones. 
The  country  grew  higher  and  rougher,  and  the  peaks 


206  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

blazed  in  the  hot  sky ;  slate  and  sand  and  cactus  be 
low,  gaping  cracks  and  funnelled  erosions  above,  rocks 
like  monuments  slanting  up  to  the  top  pinnacles ;  su 
preme  Arizona,  stark  and  dead  in  space,  like  an  ex 
tinct  planet,  flooded  blind  with  eternal  brightness. 
The  perpetual  dominating  peaks  caught  Genesmere's 
attention.  "  Toll  on  !"  he  cried  to  them,  "  Toll  on, 
you  tall  mountains.  What  do  you  care  ?  Summer 
and  winter,  night  and  day,  I've  known  you,  and  I've 
heard  you  all  along.  A  man  can't  look  but  he  sees 
you  walling  God's  country  from  him,  ringing  away  with 
your  knell." 

He  must  have  been  lying  down  during  some  time, 
for  now  he  saw  the  full  moon  again,  and  his  animals 
near  him,  and  a  fire  blazing  that  himself  had  evidently 
built.  The  coffee-pot  sat  on  it,  red-hot  and  split  open. 
He  felt  almost  no  suffering  at  all,  but  stronger  than 
ever  in  his  life,  and  he  heard  something  somewhere 
screaming  "  Water!  water  !  water !"  fast  and  unceasing, 
like  an  alarm-clock.  A  rattling  of  stones  made  him 
turn,  and  there  stood  a  few  staring  cattle.  Instantly 
he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  the  screaming  stopped. 
"  Round  'em  up,  Russ  Genesmere !  It's  getting  late !" 
he  yelled,  and  ran  among  the  cattle,  whirling  his  rope. 
They  dodged  weakly  this  way  and  that,  and  next  he 
was  on  the  white  horse  urging  him  after  the  cows,  who 
ran  in  a  circle.  One  struck  the  end  of  a  log  that 
stuck  out  from  the  fire,  splintering  the  flames  and  em 
bers,  and  Genesmere  followed  on  the  tottering  horse 
through  the  sparks,  swinging  his  rope  and  yelling  in 
the  full  moon :  "  Round  'em  up !  round  'em  up ! 
Don't  you  want  to  make  camp  ?  All  the  rest  of  the 
herd's  bedded  down  along  with  the  ravens." 

The  white  horse  fell  and  threw  him  by  the  edge  of 


LA   TINAJA    BONITA  207 

a  round  hole,  but  he  did  not  know  it  till  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  it  was  light  again,  and  the  mountains  still 
tolling.  Then  like  a  crash  of  cymbals  the  Tinaja  beat 
into  his  recognition.  He  knew  the  slate  rock  ;  he  saw 
the  broken  natural  stairs.  He  plunged  down  then), 
arms  forward  like  a  diver's,  and  ground  his  forehead 
against  the  bottom.  It  was  dry.  His  bloodshot  eyes 
rolled  once  up  round  the  sheer  walls.  Yes,  it  was  the 
Tinaja,  and  his  hands  began  to  tear  at  the  gravel.  He 
flung  himself  to  fresh  places,  fiercely  grubbing  with 
his  heels,  biting  into  the  sand  with  his  teeth ;  while 
above  him  in  the  canon  his  placid  animals  lay  round 
the  real  Tinaja  Bonita,  having  slaked  their  thirst  last 
night,  in  time,  some  thirty  yards  from  where  he  now 
lay  bleeding  and  fighting  the  dust  in  the  dry  twin  hole. 

He  heard  voices,  and  put  his  hands  up  to  something 
round  his  head.  He  was  now  lying  out  in  the  light, 
with  a  cold  bandage  round  his  forehead,  and  a  moist 
rag  on  his  lips. 

"  Water !"    He  could  just  make  the  whisper. 

But  Lolita  made  a  sign  of  silence. 

"  Water !"  he  gasped. 

She  shook  her  head,  smiling,  and  moistened  the 
rag.  That  must  be  all  just  now. 

His  eye  sought  and  travelled,  and  stopped  short, 
dilating ;  and  Lolita  screamed  at  his  leap  for  the  liv 
ing  well. 

"  Not  yet !  Not  yet !"  she  said  in  terror,  grappling 
with  him.  "  Help  !  Luis  !" 

So  this  was  their  plot,  the  demon  told  him  —  to 
keep  him  from  water !  In  a  frenzy  of  strength  he 
seized  Lolita.  "  Proved !  Proved  !"  he  shouted,  and 
struck  his  knife  into  her.  She  fell  at  once  to  the 
earth  and  lay  calm,  eyes  wide  open,  breathing  in  the 


ao8  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

bright  sun.  He  rushed  to  the  water  and  plunged, 
swallowing  and  rolling. 

Luis  ran  up  from  the  cows  he  was  gathering,  and 
when  he  saw  what  was  done,  sank  by  Lolita  to  sup 
port  her.  She  pointed  to  the  pool. 

"  He  is  killing  himself !"  she  managed  to  say,  and 
her  head  went  lower. 

"And  I'll  help  you  die,  caberon!  I'll  tear  your 
tongue.  I'll—" 

But  Lolita,  hearing  Luis's  terrible  words,  had  raised 
a  forbidding  hand.  She  signed  to  leave  her  and 
bring  Genesmere  to  her. 

The  distracted  Luis  went  down  the  stone  stairs  to 
kill  the  American  in  spite  of  her,  but  the  man's  ap 
pearance  stopped  him.  You  could  not  raise  a  hand 
against  one  come  to  this.  The  water-drinking  was 
done,  and  Genesmere  lay  fainting,  head  and  helpless 
arms  on  the  lowest  stone,  body  in  the  water.  The 
Black  Cross  stood  dry  above.  Luis  heard  Lolita's 
voice,  and  dragged  Genesmere  to  the  top  as  quickly 
as  he  could.  She,  seeing  her  lover,  cried  his  name 
once  and  died  ;  and  Luis  cast  himself  on  the  earth. 

"  Fool !  fool !"  he  repeated,  catching  at  the  ground, 
where  he  lay  for  some  while  until  a  hand  touched 
him.  It  was  Genesmere. 

"  I'm  seeing  things  pretty  near  straight  now,"  the 
man  said.  "  Come  close.  I  can't  talk  well.  Was — 
was  that  talk  of  yours,  and  singing — was  that  bluff  ?" 

"  God  forgive  me  !"  said  poor  Luis. 

"  You  mean  forgive  me,"  said  Genesmere.  He  lay 
looking  at  Lolita.  "  Close  her  eyes,"  he  said.  And 
Luis  did  so.  Genesmere  was  plucking  at  his  clothes, 
and  the  Mexican  helped  him  draw  out  a  handker 
chief,  which  the  lover  unfolded  like  a  treasure.  "  She 


LA  TINAJA   BONITA  2Og 

used  to  look  like  this,"  he  began.  He  felt  and 
stopped.  "  Why,  it's  gone !"  he  said.  He  lay  evi 
dently  seeking  to  remember  where  the  picture  had 
gone,  and  his  eyes  went  to  the  hills  whence  no  help 
came.  Presently  Luis  heard  him  speaking,  and,  lean 
ing  to  hear,  made  out  that  he  was  murmuring  his 
own  name,  Russ,  in  the  way  Lolita  had  been  used  to 
say  it.  The  boy  sat  speechless,  and  no  thought 
stirred  in  his  despair  as  he  watched.  The  American 
moved  over,  and  put  his  arms  round  Lolita,  Luis 
knowing  that  he  must  not  offer  to  help  him  do  this. 
He  remained  so  long  that  the  boy,  who  would  never 
be  a  boy  again,  bent  over  to  see.  But  it  was  only 
another  fainting-fit.  Luis  waited ;  now  and  then  the 
animals  moved  among  the  rocks.  The  sun  crossed 
the  sky,  bringing  the  many-colored  evening,  and  Ari 
zona  was  no  longer  terrible,  but  once  more  infinitely 
sad.  Luis  started,  for  the  American  was  looking  at 
him  and  beckoning. 

"  She's  not  here,"  Genesmere  said,  distinctly. 

Luis  could  not  follow. 

"Not  here,  I  tell  you."  The  lover  touched  his 
sweetheart.  "This  is  not  her.  My  punishment  is 
nothing,"  he  went  on,  his  face  growing  beautiful. 
"  See  there !" 

Luis  looked  where  he  pointed. 

"  Don't  you  see  her  ?  Don't  you  see  her  fixing  that 
camp  for  me  ?  We're  going  to  camp  together  now." 

But  these  were  visions  alien  to  Luis,  and  he  stared 
helpless,  anxious  to  do  anything  that  the  man  might 
desire.  Genesmere's  face  darkened  wistfully. 

"  Am  I  not  making  camp  ?"  he  said. 

Luis  nodded  to  please  him,  without  at  all  compre 
hending. 


210  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"You  don't  see  her."  Reason  was  warring  with 
the  departing  spirit  until  the  end.  "Well,  maybe 
you're  right.  I  never  was  sure.  But  I'm  mortal 
tired  of  travelling  alone.  I  hope — " 

That  was  the  end,  and  Russ  Genesmere  lay  still 
beside,  his  sweetheart.  It  was  a  black  evening  at  the 
cabin,  and  a  black  day  when  Luis  and  old  Ramon 
raised  and  fenced  the  wooden  head-stone,  with  its 
two  forlorn  names. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE    GILA 

MIDWAY  from  Grant  to  Thomas  comes  Paymaster's 
Hill,  not  much  after  Cedar  Springs  and  not  long  be 
fore  you  sight  the  valley  where  the  Gila  flows.  This 
lonely  piece  of  road  must  lie  three  thousand  miles 
from  Washington ;  but  in  the  holiday  journey  that  I 
made  they  are  near  together  among  the  adventures 
of  mind  and  body  that  overtook  me.  For  as  I  turned 
southward  our  capital  was  my  first  stopping  -  place, 
and  it  was  here  I  gathered  the  expectations  of  Ari 
zona  with  which  I  continued  on  my  way. 

Arizona  was  the  unknown  country  I  had  chosen 
for  my  holiday,  and  I  found  them  describing  it  in 
our  National  House  of  Representatives,  where  I  had 
strolled  for  sight-seeing  but  stayed  to  listen.  The 
Democrats  were  hot  to  make  the  Territory  a  State, 
while  the  Republicans  objected  that  the  place  had 
about  it  still  too  much  of  the  raw  frontier.  The  talk 
and  replies  of  each  party  were  not  long  in  shaking 
off  restraint,  and  in  the  sharp  exchange  of  satire  the 
Republicans  were  reminded  that  they  had  not  thought 
Idaho  and  Wyoming  unripe  at  a  season  when  those 
Territories  were  rumored  to  be  Republican.  Arizona 
might  be  Democratic,  but  neither  cattle  wars  nor  mine 
revolutions  flourished  there.  Good  order  and  pros 
perity  prevailed.  A  member  from  Pennsylvania  pres- 


212  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

ently  lost  his  temper,  declaring  that  gigantic  general 
ities  about  milk  and  honey  and  enlightenment  would 
not  avail  to  change  his  opinion.  Arizona  was  well  on 
to  three  times  the  size  of  New  York — had  a  hundred 
and  thirteen  thousand  square  miles.  Square  miles  of 
what?  The  desert  of  Sahara  was  twice  as  big  as 
Arizona,  and  one  of  the  largest  misfortunes  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  Arizona  had  sixty  thousand  in 
habitants,  not  quite  so  many  as  the  town  of  Troy. 
And  what  sort  of  people  ?  He  understood  that  cactus 
was  Arizona's  chief  crop,  stage-robbing  her  most  ac 
tive  industry,  and  the  Apache  her  leading  citizen. 

And  then  the  Boy  Orator  of  the  Rio  Grande  took 
his  good  chance.  I  forgot  his  sallow  face  and  black, 
unpleasant  hair,  and  even  his  single  gesture  —  that 
straining  lift  of  one  hand  above  the  shoulder  dur 
ing  the  suspense  of  a  sentence  and  that  cracking  it 
down  into  the  other  at  the  full  stop,  endless  as  a  pile- 
driver.  His  facts  wiped  any  trick  of  manner  from 
my  notice.  Indians  ?  Stage-robbers  ?  Cactus  ?  Yes. 
He  would  add  famine,  drought,  impotent  law,  daily 
murder ;  he  could  add  much  more,  but  it  was  all  told 
in  Mr.  Pumpelly's  book,  true  as  life,  thirty  years  ago 
— doubtless  the  latest  news  in  Pennsylvania !  Had 
this  report  discouraged  the  gentleman  from  visiting 
Arizona  ?  Why,  he  could  go  there  to-day  in  a  Pull 
man  car  by  two  great  roads  and  eat  his  three  meals 
in  security.  But  Eastern  statesmen  were  too  often 
content  with  knowing  their  particular  corner  of  our 
map  while  a  continent  of  ignorance  lay  in  their 
minds. 

At  this  stroke  applause  sounded  beside  me,  and, 
turning,  I  had  my  first  sight  of  the  yellow  duster. 
The  bulky  man  that  wore  it  shrewdly  and  smilingly 


A   PILGRIM    ON    THE   GILA  213 

watched  the  orator,  who  now  dwelt  upon  the  rapid 
benefits  of  the  railways,  the  excellent  men  and  things 
they  brought  to  Arizona,  the  leap  into  civilization 
that  the  Territory  had  taken.  "  Let  Pennsylvania  see 
those  blossoming  fields  for  herself,"  said  he,  "  those 
boundless  contiguities  of  shade."  And  a  sort  of  cluck 
went  off  down  inside  my  neighbor's  throat,  while  the 
speaker  with  rising  heat  gave  us  the  tonnage  of  plums 
exported  from  the  Territory  during  the  past  fiscal  year. 
Wool  followed. 

"  Sock  it  to  'em,  Limber  Jim  !"  murmured  the  man 
in  the  duster,  and  executed  a  sort  of  step.  He  was 
plainly  a  personal  acquaintance  of  the  speaker's. 

Figures  never  stick  by  me,  nor  can  I  quote  accu 
rately  the  catalogue  of  statistic  abundance  now  re 
cited  in  the  House  of  Representatives ;  but  as  wheat, 
corn,  peaches,  apricots,  oranges,  raisins,  spices,  the 
rose  and  the  jasmine  flowered  in  the  Boy  Orator's 
eloquence,  the  genial  antics  of  my  neighbor  increased 
until  he  broke  into  delighted  mutterings,  such  as 
"  He's  a  stud-horse,"  and  "  Put  the  kybosh  on  'em," 
and  many  more  that  have  escaped  my  memory.  But 
the  Boy  Orator's  peroration  I  am  glad  to  remem 
ber,  for  his  fervid  convictions  lifted  him  into  the  do 
main  of  metaphor  and  cadence ;  and  though  to  be 
sure  I  made  due  allowance  for  enthusiasm,  his  pict 
ure  of  Arizona  remained  vivid  with  me,  and  I  should 
have  voted  to  make  the  Territory  a  State  that  very 
day. 

"  With  her  snow-clad  summits,  with  the  balm  of 
her  Southern  vineyards,  she  loudly  calls  for  a  sister's 
rights.  Not  the  isles  of  Greece,  nor  any  cycle  of 
Cathay,  can  compete  with  her  horticultural  resources, 
her  Salt  River,  her  Colorado,  her  San  Pedro,  her  Gila, 


AND  WHITE 

her  hundred  irrigated  valleys,  each  one  surpassing  the 
shaded  Paradise  of  the  Nile,  where  thousands  of  noble 
men  and  elegantly  educated  ladies  have  already  lo 
cated,  and  to  which  thousands  more,  like  patient  mon 
uments,  are  waiting  breathless  to  throng  when  the 
franchise  is  proclaimed.  And  if  my  death  could  buy 
that  franchise,  I  would  joyfully  boast  such  martyr 
dom." 

The  orator  cracked  his  hands  together  in  this  su 
preme  moment,  and  the  bulky  gentleman  in  the  duster 
drove  an  elbow  against  my  side,  whispering  to  me  at 
the  same  time  behind  his  hand,  in  a  hoarse  confidence  : 
"  Deserted  Jericho  !  California  only  holds  the  record 
on  stoves  now." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  do  not  catch  your  allusion,"  I  began. 
But  at  my  voice  he  turned  sharply,  and,  giving  me  one 
short,  ugly  stare,  was  looking  about  him,  evidently  at 
some  loss,  when  a  man  at  his  farther  side  pulled  at  his 
duster,  and  I  then  saw  that  he  had  all  along  been  tak 
ing  me  for  a  younger  companion  he  had  come  in  with, 
and  with  whom  he  now  went  away.  In  the  jostle  we 
had  shifted  places  while  his  eyes  were  upon  the  various 
speakers,  and  to  him  I  seemed  an  eavesdropper.  Both 
he  and  his  friend  had  a  curious  appearance,  and  they 
looked  behind  them,  meeting  my  gaze  as  I  watched 
them  going;  and  then  they  made  to  each  other  some 
laughing  comment,  of  which  I  felt  myself  to  be  the  in 
spiration.  I  was  standing  absently  on  the  same  spot, 
still  in  a  mild  puzzle  over  California  and  the  record 
on  stoves.  Certainly  I  had  overheard  none  of  their 
secrets,  if  they  had  any ;  I  could  not  even  guess  what 
might  be  their  true  opinion  about  admitting  Arizona 
to  our  Union. 

With  this  last  memory  of  our  Capitol  and  the  states- 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE  GILA  215 

men  we  have  collected  there  to  govern  us,  I  entered 
upon  my  holiday,  glad  that  it  was  to  be  passed  in  such 
a  region  of  enchantment.  For  peaches  it  would  be 
too  early,  and  with  roses  and  jasmine  I  did  not  impor 
tantly  concern  myself,  thinking  of  them  only  as  a  pleas 
ant  sight  by  the  way.  But  on  my  gradual  journey 
through  Lexington,  Bowling  Green,  Little  Rock,  and 
Forth  Worth  I  dwelt  upon  the  shade  of  the  valleys, 
and  the  pasture  hills  dotted  with  the  sheep  of  whose 
wool  the  Boy  Orator  had  spoken  ;  and  I  wished  that 
our  cold  Northwest  could  have  been  given  such  a 
bountiful  climate.  Upon  the  final  morning  of  railroad 
I  looked  out  of  the  window  at  an  earth  which  during 
the  night  had  collapsed  into  a  vacuum,  as  I  had  so 
often  seen  happen  before  upon  more  Northern  paral 
lels.  The  evenness  of  this  huge  nothing  was  cut  by 
our  track's  interminable  scar,  and  broken  to  the  eye  by 
the  towns  which  now  and  again  rose  and  littered  the 
horizon  like  boxes  dumped  by  emigrants.  We  were 
still  in  Texas,  not  distant  from  the  Rio  Grande,  and  I 
looked  at  the  boxes  drifting  by,  and  wondered  from 
which  of  them  the  Boy  Orator  had  been  let  loose. 
Twice  or  three  times  upon  this  day  of  sand  I  saw 
green  spots  shining  sudden  and  bright  and  Biblical  in 
the  wilderness.  Their  isolated  loveliness  was  herald 
of  the  valley  land  I  was  nearing  each  hour.  The  wan 
dering  Mexicans,  too,  bright  in  rags  and  swarthy  in 
nakedness,  put  me  somehow  in  mind  of  the  Old  Tes 
tament. 

In  the  evening  I  sat  at  whiskey  with  my  first  ac 
quaintance,  a  Mr.  Mowry,  one  of  several  Arizona  citi 
zens  whom  my  military  friend  at  San  Carlos  had  writ 
ten  me  to  look  out  for  on  my  way  to  visit  him.  My 
train  had  trundled  on  to  the  Pacific,  and  I  sat  in  a 


2l6  RED    MEN   AND    WHITE 

house  once  more — a  saloon  on  the  platform,  with  an 
open  door  through  which  the  night  air  came  pleasant 
ly.  This  was  now  the  long-expected  Territory,  and 
time  for  roses  and  jasmine  to  begin.  Early  in  our 
talk  I  naturally  spoke  to  Mr.  Mowry  of  Arizona's  re 
sources  and  her  chance  of  becoming  a  State. 

"  We'd  have  got  there  by  now,"  said  he,  "  only  Luke 
Jenks  ain't  half  that  interested  in  Arizona  as  he  is  in 
Luke  Jenks." 

I  reminded  Mr.  Mowry  that  I  was  a  stranger  here 
and  unacquainted  with  the  prominent  people. 

"  Well,  Luke's  as  near  a  hog  as  you  kin  be  and  wear 
pants.  Be  with  you  in  a  minute,"  added  Mr.  Mowry, 
and  shambled  from  the  room.  This  was  because  a 
shot  had  been  fired  in  a  house  across  the  railroad 
tracks.  "  I  run  two  places,"  he  explained,  returning 
quite  soon  from  the  house  and  taking  up  the  thread  of 
his  whiskey  where  he  had  dropped  it.  "Two  outfits. 
This  side  for  toorists.  Th'  other  pays  better.  I  come 
here  in  'sixty-two." 

"I  trust  no  one  has  been — hurt?"  said  I,  inclining 
my  head  towards  the  farther  side  of  the  railroad. 

"  Hurt  ?"  My  question  for  the  moment  conveyed 
nothing  to  him,  and  he  repeated  the  word,  blinking  with 
red  eyes  at  me  over  the  rim  of  his  lifted  glass.  "  No, 
nobody's  hurt.  I've  been  here  a  long  while,  and  seen 
them  as  was  hurt,  though."  Here  he  nodded  at  me  de 
preciatingly,  and  I  felt  how  short  was  the  time  that  I  had 
been  here.  "Th'  other  side  pays  better,"  he  resumed, 
"  as  toorists  mostly  go  to  bed  early.  Six  bits  is  about 
the  figger  you  can  reckon  they'll  spend,  if  you  know 
anything."  He  nodded  again,  more  solemn  over  his 
whiskey.  "That  kind's  no  help  to  business.  I've 
been  in  this  Territory  from  the  start,  and  Arizona  ain't 


A   PILGRIM    ON    THE   GILA  217 

what  it  was.  Them  mountains  are  named  from  me." 
And  he  pointed  out  of  the  door.  "  Mowry's  Peak. 
On  the  map."  With  this  last  august  statement  his 
mind  seemed  to  fade  from  the  conversation,  and  he 
struck  a  succession  of  matches  along  the  table  and  va 
rious  parts  of  his  person. 

"  Has  Mr.  Jenks  been  in  the  Territory  long?"  I  sug 
gested,  feeling  the  silence  weigh  upon  me. 

"Luke?  He's  a  hog.  Him  the  people's  choice! 
But  the  people  of  Arizona  ain't  what  they  was.  Are 
you  interested  in  silver?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  meaning  the  political  question. 
But  before  I  could  say  what  I  meant  he  had  revived 
into  a  vigor  of  attitude  and  a  wakefulness  of  eye  of 
which  I  had  not  hitherto  supposed  him  capable. 

"  You  come  here,"  said  he ;  and,  catching  my  arm, 
he  took  me  out  of  the  door  and  along  the  track  in  the 
night,  and  round  the  corner  of  the  railroad  hotel  into 
view  of  more  mountains  that  lay  to  the  south.  "  You 
stay  here  to  -  morrow,"  he  pursued,  swiftly,  "  and  I'll 
hitch  up  and  drive  you  over  there.  I'll  show  you  some 
rock  behind  Helen's  Dome  that  '11  beat  any  you've 
struck  in  the  whole  course  of  your  life.  It's  on  the 
wood  reservation,  and  when  the  government  abandons 
the  Post,  as  they're  going  to  do — " 

There  is  no  need  for  my  entering  at  length  into  his 
urgence,  or  the  plans  he  put  to  me  for  our  becoming 
partners,  or  for  my  buying  him  out  and  employing  him 
on  a  salary,  or  buying  him  out  and  employing  some 
other,  or  no  one,  according  as  I  chose  —  the  whole 
bright  array  of  costumes  in  which  he  presented  to  me 
the  chance  of  making  my  fortune  at  a  stroke.  I  think 
that  from  my  answers  he  gathered  presently  a  discour 
aging  but  perfectly  false  impression.  My  Eastern  hat 


2l8  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

and  inexperienced  face  (I  was  certainly  young  enough 
to  have  been  his  grandchild)  had  a  little  misled  him  ; 
and  although  he  did  not  in  the  least  believe  the  simple 
truth  I  told  him,  that  I  had  come  to  Arizona  on  no 
sort  of  business,  but  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
country,  he  now  overrated  my  brains  as  greatly  as  he 
had  in  the  beginning  despised  them,  quite  persuaded  I 
was  playing  some  game  deeper  than  common,  and  either 
owned  already  or  had  my  eye  upon  other  silver  mines. 

"  Pleasure  of  seeing  the  country,  ye  say  ?"  His  small 
wet  eyes  blinked  as  he  stood  on  the  railroad  track 
bareheaded,  considering  me  from  head  to  foot.  "  All 
right.  Did  ye  say  ye're  going  to  Globe  ?" 

"  No.     To  San  Carlos  to  visit  an  army  officer." 

"  Carlos  is  on  the  straight  road  to  Globe,"  said  Mr. 
Mowry,  vindictively.  "  But  ye  might  as  well  drop  any 
idea  of  Globe,  if  ye  should  get  one.  If  it's  copper  ye're 
after,  there's  parties  in  ahead  of  you." 

Desiring,  if  possible,  to  shift  his  mind  from  its  pres 
ent  unfavorable  turn,  I  asked  him  if  Mr.  Adams  did 
not  live  between  here  and  Solomonsville,  my  route  to 
Carlos.  Mr.  Adams  was  another  character  of  whom 
my  host  had  written  me,  and  at  my  mention  of  his 
name  the  face  of  Mr.  Mowry  immediately  soured  into 
the  same  expression  it  had  taken  when  he  spoke  of  the 
degraded  Jenks. 

"  So  you're  acquainted  with  him  !  He's  got  mines. 
I've  seen  'em.  If  you  represent  any  Eastern  parties, 
tell  'em  not  to  drop  their  dollars  down  old  Adams's 
hole  in  the  ground.  He  ain't  the  inexperienced  juni 
per  he  looks.  Him  and  me's  been  acquainted  these 
thirty  years.  People  claim  it  was  Cyclone  Bill  held  up 
the  Ehrenberg  stage.  Well,  I  guess  I'll  be  seeing 
how  the  boys  are  getting  along." 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  219 

With  that  he  moved  away.  A  loud  disturbance  of 
chairs  and  broken  glass  had  set  up  in  the  house  across 
the  railroad,  and  I  watched  the  proprietor  shamble 
from  me  with  his  deliberate  gait  towards  the  establish 
ment  that  paid  him  best.  He  had  left  me  possessor 
of  much  incomplete  knowledge,  and  I  waited  for  him, 
pacing  the  platform ;  but  he  did  not  return,  and  as  I 
judged  it  inexpedient  to  follow  him,  I  went  to  my  bed 
on  the  tourist  side  of  the  track. 

In  the  morning  the  stage  went  early,  and  as  our 
road  seemed  to  promise  but  little  variety — I  could  see 
nothing  but  an  empty  plain — I  was  glad  to  find  my 
single  fellow-passenger  a  man  inclined  to  talk.  I  did 
not  like  his  mustache,  which  was  too  large  for  his  face, 
nor  his  too  careful  civility  and  arrangement  of  words ; 
but  he  was  genial  to  excess,  and  thoughtful  of  my 
comfort. 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  allow  my  valise  to  incommode 
you,"  was  one  of  his  first  remarks ;  and  I  liked  this 
consideration  better  than  any  Mr.  Mowry  had  shown 
me.  "  I  fear  you  will  detect  much  initial  primitive- 
ness  in  our  methods  of  transportation,"  he  said. 

This  again  called  for  gracious  assurances  on  my 
part,  and  for  a  while  our  polite  phrases  balanced  to 
corners  until  I  was  mentally  winded  keeping  up  such 
a  pace  of  manners.  The  train  had  just  brought  him 
from  Tucson,  he  told  me,  and  would  I  indulge  ?  On 
this  we  shared  and  complimented  each  other's  whis 
key. 

"  From  your  flask  I  take  it  that  you  are  a  Gentile," 
said  he,  smiling. 

"  If  you  mean  tenderfoot,"  said  I,  "  let  me  confess 
at  once  that  flask  and  owner  are  from  the  East,  and 
brand-new  in  Arizona." 


220  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

"  I  mean  you're  not  a  Mormon.  Most  strangers  to 
me  up  this  way  are.  But  they  carry  their  liquor  in  a 
plain  flat  bottle  like  this." 

"  Are  you  a — a — "  Embarrassment  took  me  as  it 
would  were  I  to  check  myself  on  the  verge  of  asking  a 
courteously  disposed  stranger  if  he  had  ever  embez 
zled. 

"  Oh,  I'm  no  Mormon,'1  my  new  friend  said,  with  a 
chuckle,  and  I  was  glad  to  hear  him  come  down  to 
reasonable  English.  "  But  Gentiles  are  in  the  minor 
ity  in  this  valley." 

"  I  didn't  know  we'd  got  to  the  valleys  yet,"  said  I, 
eagerly,  connecting  Mormons  with  fertility  and  jas 
mine.  And  I  lifted  the  flaps  of  the  stage,  first  one 
side  and  then  the  other,  and  saw  the  desert  every 
where  flat,  treeless,  and  staring  like  an  eye  without  a 
lid. 

"This  is  the  San  Simon  Valley  we've  been  in  all 
the  time,"  he  replied.  "  It  goes  from  Mexico  to  the 
Gila,  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles." 

"  Like  this  ?" 

"  South  it's  rockier.     Better  put  the  flap  down." 

"  I  don't  see  where  people  live,"  I  said,  as  two 
smoky  spouts  of  sand  jetted  from  the  tires  and  strewed 
over  our  shoes  and  pervaded  our  nostrils.  "  There's 
nothing — yes,  there's  one  bush  coming."  I  fastened 
the  flaps. 

"  That's  Seven-Mile  Mesquite.  They  held  up  the 
stage  at  this  point  last  October.  But  they  made  a 
mistake  in  the  day.  The  money  had  gone  down  the 
afternoon  before,  and  they  only  got  about  a  hundred." 

"  I  suppose  it  was  Mormons  who  robbed  the  stage  ?" 

"  Don't  talk  quite  so  loud,"  the  stranger  said,  laugh 
ing.  "  The  driver's  one  of  them." 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  221 

"  A  Mormon  or  a  robber  ?" 

"Well,  we  only  know  he's  a  Mormon." 

"  He  doesn't  look  twenty.  Has  he  many  wives 
yet  ?" 

"  Oh,  they  keep  that  thing  very  quiet  in  these  days, 
if  they  do  it  at  all.  The  government  made  things  too 
hot  altogether.  The  Bishop  here  knows  what  hiding 
for  polygamy  means." 

"  Bishop  who  ?" 

"  Meakum,"  I  thought  he  answered  me,  but  was  not 
sure  in  the  rattle  of  the  stage,  and  twice  made  him  re 
peat  it,  putting  my  hand  to  my  ear  at  last.  "  Mea 
kum  !  Meakum  !"  he  shouted. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  driver. 

"  Have  some  whiskey  ?"  said  my  friend,  promptly ; 
and  when  that  was  over  and  the  flat  bottle  passed 
back,  he  explained  in  a  lower  voice,  "A  son  of  the 
Bishop's." 

"  Indeed  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"  So  was  the  young  fellow  who  put  in  the  mail-bags, 
and  that  yellow-headed  duck  in  the  store  this  morn 
ing."  My  companion,  in  the  pleasure  of  teaching  new 
things  to  a  stranger,  stretched  his  legs  on  the  front 
seat,  lifted  my  coat  out  of  his  way,  and  left  all  formality 
of  speech  and  deportment.  "  And  so's  the  driver 
you'll  have  to-morrow  if  you're  going  beyond  Thomas, 
and  the  stock-tender  at  the  sub-agency  where  you'll 
breakfast.  He's  a  yellow-head  too.  The  old  man's 
postmaster,  and  owns  this  stage-line.  One  of  his  boys 
has  the  mail  contract.  The  old  man  runs  the  hotel  at 
Solomonsville  and  two  stores  at  Bowie  and  Globe,  and 
the  store  and  mill  at  Thacher.  He  supplies  the  mil 
itary  posts  in  this  district  with  hay  and  wood,  and  a  lot 
of  things  on  and  off  through  the  year.  Can't  write  his 


222  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

own  name.  Signs  government  contracts  with  his  mark. 
He's  sixty-four,  and  he's  had  eight  wives.  Last  sum 
mer  he  married  number  nine — rest  all  dead,  he  says, 
and  I  guess  that's  so.  He  has  fifty-seven  recorded 
children,  not  counting  the  twins  born  last  week.  Any 
yellow-heads  you'll  see  in  the  valley  '11  answer  to  the 
name  of  Meakum  as  a  rule,  and  the  other  type's  curly 
black  like  this  little  driver  specimen." 

"  How  interesting  there  should  be  only  two  varieties 
of  Meakum  !"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  it's  interesting.  Of  course  the  whole  fifty- 
seven  don't  class  up  yellow  or  black  curly,  but  if  you 
could  take  account  of  stock  you'd  find  the  big  half  of 
'em  do.  Mothers  don't  seem  to  have  influenced  the 
type  appreciably.  His  eight  families,  successive  and 
simultaneous,  cover  a  period  of  forty-three  years,  and 
yellow  and  black  keeps  turning  up  right  along.  Sci 
entifically,  the  suppression  of  Mormonism  is  a  loss  to 
the  student  of  heredity.  Some  of  the  children  are 
dead.  Get  killed  now  and  then,  and  die  too — die 
from  sickness.  But  you'll  easily  notice  Meakums  as 
you  go  up  the  valley.  Old  man  sees  all  get  good  jobs 
as  soon  as  they're  old  enough.  Places  'em  on  the 
railroad,  places  'em  in  town,  all  over  the  lot.  Some 
don't  stay ;  you  couldn't  expect  the  whole  fifty-seven 
to  be  steady  ;  but  he  starts  'em  all  fair.  We  have  six  in 
Tucson  now,  or  five,  maybe.  Old  man's  a  good  father." 

"  They're  not  all  boys  ?" 

"  Certainly  not ;  but  more  than  half  are." 

"  And  you  say  he  can't  write  ?" 

"Or  read,  except  print,  and  he  has  to  spell  out  that." 

"  But,  my  goodness,  he's  postmaster!" 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  it?  Young  Meakums 
all  read  like  anything.  He  don't  do  any  drudgery." 


A   PILGRIM    ON    THE   GILA  223 

"  Well,  you  wouldn't  catch  me  signing  any  contracts 
I  couldn't  read." 

"  Do  you  think  you'd  catch  anybody  reading  a  con 
tract  wrong  to  old  Meakum  ?  Oh,  momma  !  Why, 
he's  king  round  here.  Fixes  the  county  elections  and 
the  price  of  tomatoes.  Do  you  suppose  any  Tucson 
jury  '11  convict  any  of  his  Mormons  if  he  says  nay  ? 
No,  sir  !  It's  been  tried.  Why,  that  man  ought  to  be 
in  Congress." 

"  If  he's  like  that  I  don't  consider  him  desirable," 
said  I. 

"Yes,  he  is  desirable,"  said  my  friend,  roughly. 
"Smart,  can't  be  fooled,  and  looks  after  his  people's 
interests.  I'd  like  to  know  if  that  don't  fill  the  bill  ?" 

"  If  he  defeats  justice— " 

"  Oh,  rats  !"  This  interruption  made  me  regret  his 
earlier  manner,  and  I  was  sorry  the  polish  had  rubbed 
through  so  quickly  and  brought  us  to  a  too  precipitate 
familiarity.  "  We're  Western  out  here,"  he  continued, 
"  and  we're  practical.  When  we  want  a  thing,  we  go 
after  it.  Bishop  Meakum  worked  his  way  down  here 
from  Utah  through  desert  and  starvation,  mostly  afoot, 
for  a  thousand  miles,  and  his  flock  to-day  is  about  the 
only  class  in  the  Territory  that  knows  what  prosperity 
feels  like,  and  his  laws  are  about  the  only  laws  folks 
don't  care  to  break.  He's  got  a  brain.  If  he  weren't 
against  Arizona's  being  admitted — " 

"  He  should  know  better  than  that,"  said  I,  wishing 
to  be  friendly.  "With  your  fruit  exports  and  high 
grade  of  citizens  you'll  soon  be  another  California." 

He  gave  me  an  odd  look. 

"  I  am  surprised,"  I  proceeded,  amiably,  "  to  hear 
you  speak  of  Mormons  only  as  prosperous.  They 
think  better  of  you  in  Washington." 


224  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  Now,  see  here,"  said  he, "  I've  been  pleasant  to 
you  and  I've  enjoyed  this  ride.  But  I  like  plain  talk." 

"  What's  the  matter?"  I  asked. 

"  And  I  don't  care  for  Eastern  sarcasm." 

"  There  was  no  intention — " 

"  I  don't  take  offence  where  offence  is  not  intended. 
As  for  high-grade  citizens,  we  don't  claim  to  know  as 
much  as —  I  suppose  it's  New  York  you  come  from  ? 
Gold-bugs  and  mugwumps — " 

"  If  you  can  spare  the  time,"  said  I,  "  and  kindly 
explain  what  has  disturbed  you  in  my  remarks,  we'll 
each  be  likely  to  find  the  rest  of  these  forty  miles  more 
supportable." 

"  I  guess  I  can  stand  it,"  said  he,  swallowing  a  drink. 
He  folded  his  arms  and  resettled  his  legs  ;  and  the  noi 
some  hatefulness  of  his  laugh  filled  me  with  regret  for 
the  wet-eyed  Mowry.  I  would  now  gladly  have  taken 
any  amount  of  Mowry  in  exchange  for  this ;  and  it 
struck  me  afresh  how  uncertainly  one  always  reckons 
with  those  who  suspect  their  own  standing. 

"Till  Solomonsville,"  said  I,  "let  us  veil  our  estima 
tion  of  each  other.  Once  out  of  this  stage  and  the 
world  will  be  large  enough  for  both  of  us."  I  was 
wrong  there  ;  but  presentiments  do  not  come  to  me 
often.  So  I,  too,  drank  some  of  my  own  whiskey, 
lighted  a  cigar,  and  observed  with  pleasure  that  my 
words  had  enraged  him. 

Before  either  of  us  had  devised  our  next  remark, 
the  stage  pulled  up  to  change  horses  at  the  first  and 
last  water  in  forty  miles.  This  station  was  kept  by 
Mr.  Adams,  and  I  jumped  out  to  see  the  man  Mr. 
Mowry  had  warned  me  was  not  an  inexperienced  juni 
per.  His  appearance  would  have  drawn  few  but  mis- 
lionaries  to  him,  and  I  should  think  would  have  been 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  225 

warning  enough  to  any  but  an  over-trustful  child  of 
six. 

"  Are  you  the  geologist  ?"  he  said  at  once,  coughing 
heavily ;  and  when  I  told  him  I  was  simply  enjoying 
a  holiday,  he  looked  at  me  sharply  and  spat  against 
the  corner  of  the  stable.  "  There's  one  of  them  fel 
lers  expected,"  he  continued,  in  a  tone  as  if  I  need  not 
attempt  to  deny  that,  and  I  felt  his  eye  watching  for 
signs  of  geology  about  me.  I  told  him  that  I  imag 
ined  the  geologist  must  do  an  active  business  in  Ari 
zona. 

"  I  don't  hire  'em  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  They  can't 
tell  me  nothing  about  mineral." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  been  here  a  long  while,  Mr. 
Adams  ?" 

"  There's  just  three  living  that  come  in  ahead  of—" 
The  cough  split  his  last  word  in  pieces. 

"  Mr.  Mowry  was  saying  last  night — " 

"  You've  seen  that  old  scamp,  have  you  ?  Buy  his 
mine  behind  Helen's  Dome  ?" 

My  mirth  at  this  turned  him  instantly  confidential, 
and  rooted  his  conviction  that  I  was  a  geologist. 
"  That's  right  !"  said  he,  tapping  my  arm.  "  Don't 
you  let  'em  fool  you.  I  guess  you  know  your  business. 
Now,  if  you  want  to  look  at  good  paying  rock,  thou 
sands  in  sight,  in  sight,  mind  you — " 

"  Are  you  coming  along  with  us  ?"  called  the  little 
Meakum  driver,  and  I  turned  and  saw  the  new  team 
was  harnessed  and  he  ready  on  his  box,  with  the  reins 
in  his  hands.  So  I  was  obliged  to  hasten  from  the 
disappointed  Adams  and  climb  back  in  my  seat.  The 
last  I  saw  of  him  he  was  standing  quite  still  in  the 
welter  of  stable  muck,  stooping  to  his  cough,  the  des 
ert  sun  beating  on  his  old  body,  and  the  desert  wind 


226  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

slowly  turning  the  windmill  above  the  shadeless  mud 
hovel  in  which  he  lived  alone. 

"Poor  old  devil !"  said  I  to  my  enemy,  half  forget 
ting  our  terms  in  my  contemplation  of  Adams.  "  Is 
he  a  Mormon  ?" 

My  enemy's  temper  seemed  a  little  improved.  "  He's 
tried  most  everything  except  jail,"  he  answered,  his 
voice  still  harsh.  "You  needn't  invest  your  senti 
ment  there.  He  used  to  hang  out  at  Twenty  Mile  in 
Old  Camp  Grant  days,  and  he'd  slit  your  throat  for 
fifty  cents." 

But  my  sentiment  was  invested  somehow.  The 
years  of  the  old-timers  were  ending  so  gray.  Their 
heyday,  and  carousals,  and  happy-go-luckiness  all  gone, 
and  in  the  remaining  hours — what  ?  Empty  youth  is 
such  a  grand  easy  thing,  and  empty  age  so  grim  ! 

"  Has  Mowry  tried  everything,  too?"  I  asked. 

"  Including  jail,"  said  my  companion  ;  and  gave  me 
many  entertaining  incidents  of  Mowry's  career  with  an 
ill-smelling  saloon  cleverness  that  put  him  once  more 
into  favorable  humor  with  me,  while  I  retained  my  opin 
ion  of  him.  "  And  that  uneducated  sot,"  he  conclud 
ed,  "that  hobo  with  his  record  of  cattle-stealing  and 
claim-jumping,  and  his  acquittal  from  jail  through  rail 
road  influence,  actually  undertook  to  run  against  me 
last  elections.  My  name  is  Jenks ;  Luke  Jenks,  Ter 
ritorial  Delegate  from  Arizona."  He  handed  me  his 
card. 

"I'm  just  from  Washington,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  I've  not  been  there  this  session.  Important 
law  business  has  detained  me  here.  Yes,  they  backed 
Mowry  in  that  election.  The  old  spittoon  had  quite  a 
following,  but  he  hadn't  the  cash.  That  gives  you 
some  idea  of  the  low  standards  I  have  to  combat. 


A   PILGRIM    ON    THE   GILA  227 

But  I  hadn't  to  spend  much.  This  Territory's  so  poor 
they  come  cheap.  Seventy-five  cents  a  head  for  all 
the  votes  I  wanted  in  Bisbee,  Nogales,  and  Yuma ;  and 
up  here  the  Bishop  was  my  good  friend.  Holding 
office  booms  my  business  some,  and  that's  why  I  took 
it,  of  course.  But  I've  had  low  standards  to  fight." 

The  Territorial  Delegate  now  talked  freely  of  Ari 
zona's  frontier  life.  "  It's  all  dead,"  he  said,  forgetting 
in  his  fluency  what  he  had  told  me  about  Seven-Mile 
Mesquite  and  last  October.  "We  have  a  community 
as  high  toned  as  any  in  the  land.  Our  monumental 
activity — "  And  here  he  went  off  like  a  cuckoo  clock, 
or  the  Boy  Orator,  reciting  the  glories  of  Phoenix  and 
Salt  River,  and  the  future  of  silver,  in  that  special  dia 
lect  of  platitudes  which  is  spoken  by  our  more  talka 
tive  statesmen,  and  is  not  quite  Latin,  quite  grammar, 
or  quite  falsehood.  "  We're  not  all  Mowrys  and 
Adamses,"  said  he,  landing  from  his  flight. 

"In  a  population  of  fifty -nine  thousand,"  said  I, 
heartily,  "a  stranger  is  bound  to  meet  decent  people 
if  he  keeps  on." 

Again  he  misinterpreted  me,  but  this  time  the  other 
way,  bowing  like  one  who  acknowledges  a  compliment ; 
and  we  came  to  Solomonsville  in  such  peace  that  he 
would  have  been  astonished  at  my  private  thoughts. 
For  I  had  met  no  undisguised  vagabond  nor  out-and- 
out  tramp  whom  I  did  not  prefer  to  Luke  Jenks,  vote- 
buyer  and  politician.  With  his  catch-penny  plausibili 
ty,  his  thin-spread  good-fellowship,  and  his  New  York 
clothes,  he  mistook  himself  for  a  respectable  man,  and 
I  was  glad  to  be  done  with  him. 

I  could  have  reached  Thomas  that  evening,  but  after 
our  noon  dinner  let  the  stage  go  on,  and  delayed  a 
night  for  the  sake  of  seeing  the  Bishop  hold  service 


228  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

next  day,  which  was  Sunday,  some  few  miles  down  the 
valley.  I  was  curious  to  learn  the  Mormon  ritual  and 
what  might  be  the  doctrines  that  such  a  man  as  the 
Bishop  would  expound.  It  dashed  me  a  little  to  find 
this  would  cost  me  forty-eight  hours  of  Solomonsville, 
no  Sunday  stage  running.  But  one  friendly  English- 
speaking  family — the  town  was  chiefly  Mexican — made 
some  of  my  hours  pleasant,  and  others  I  spent  in  walk 
ing.  Though  I  went  early  to  bed  I  slept  so  late  that 
the  ritual  was  well  advanced  when  I  reached  the  Mor 
mon  gathering.  From  where  I  was  obliged  to  stand 
I  could  only  hear  the  preacher,  already  in  the  middle 
of  his  discourse. 

"  Don't  empty  your  swill  in  the  door-yard,  but  feed 
it  to  your  hogs,"  he  was  saying ;  and  any  one  who 
knows  how  plainly  a  man  is  revealed  in  his  voice  could 
have  felt  instantly,  as  I  did,  that  here  was  undoubtedly 
a  leader  of  men.  "  Rotten  meat,  rotten  corn,  spoiled 
milk,  the  truck  that  thoughtless  folks  throw  away, 
should  be  used.  Their  usefulness  has  not  ceased  be 
cause  they're  rotten.  That's  the  error  of  the  ignorant, 
who  know  not  that  nothing  is  meant  to  be  wasted  in 
this  world.  The  ignorant  stay  poor  because  they 
break  the  law  of  the  Lord.  Waste  not,  want  not. 
The  children  of  the  Gentiles  play  in  the  door-yard 
and  grow  sickly  and  die.  The  mother  working  in  the 
house  has  a  pale  face  and  poison  in  her  blood.  She 
cannot  be  a  strong  wife.  She  cannot  bear  strong 
sons  to  the  man.  He  stays  healthy  because  he  toils 
in  the  field.  He  does  not  breathe  the  tainted  air 
rising  from  the  swill  in  the  door-yard.  Swill  is  bad 
for  us,  but  it  is  good  for  swine.  Waste  it  by  the 
threshold  it  becomes  deadly,  and  a  curse  falls  upon 
the  house.  The  mother  and  children  are  sick  because 


A    PILGRIM    ON    THE    GILA  229 

she  has  broken  a  law  of  the  Lord.  Do  not  let  me  see 
this  sin  when  I  come  among  you  in  the  valley.  Fifty 
yards  behind  each  house,  with  clean  air  between,  let 
me  see  the  well-fed  swine  receiving  each  day,  as  was 
intended,  the  garbage  left  by  man.  And  let  me  see 
flowers  in  the  door-yard,  and  stout,  blooming  children. 
We  will  sing  the  twenty-ninth  hymn." 

The  scales  had  many  hours  ago  dropped  from  my 
eyes,  and  I  saw  Arizona  clear,  and  felt  no  repining 
for  roses  and  jasmine.  They  had  been  a  politician's 
way  of  foisting  one  more  silver  State  upon  our  Senate, 
and  I  willingly  renounced  them  for  the  real  thing  I 
was  getting ;  for  my  holiday  already  far  outspangled 
the  motliest  dream  that  ever  visited  me,  and  I  settled 
down  to  it  as  we  settle  down  in  our  theatre  chairs, 
well  pleased  with  the  flying  pantomime.  And  when, 
after  the  hymn  and  a  blessing — the  hymn  was  poor 
stuff  about  wanting  to  be  a  Mormon  and  with  the 
Mormons  stand — I  saw  the  Bishop  get  into  a  wagon, 
put  on  a  yellow  duster,  and  drive  quickly  away,  no 
surprise  struck  me  at  all.  I  merely  said  to  myself : 
Certainly.  How  dull  not  to  have  foreseen  that !  And 
I  knew  that  we  should  speak  together  soon,  and  he 
would  tell  me  why  California  only  held  the  record  on 
stoves. 

But  oh,  my  friends,  what  a  country  we  live  in,  and 
what  an  age,  that  the  same  stars  and  stripes  should 
simultaneously  wave  over  this  and  over  Delmonico's ! 
This  too  I  kept  thinking  as  I  killed  more  hours  in 
walking  the  neighborhood  of  Solomonsville,  an  object 
of  more  false  hope  to  natives  whom  I  did  not  then 
observe.  I  avoided  Jenks,  who  had  business  clients 
in  the  town.  I  went  among  the  ditches  and  the  fields 
thus  turned  green  by  the  channelled  Gila ;  and  though 


330  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

it  was  scarce  a  paradise  surpassing  the  Nile,  it  was 
grassy  and  full  of  sweet  smells  until  after  a  few  miles 
each  way,  when  the  desert  suddenly  met  the  pleasant 
verdure  full  in  the  face  and  corroded  it  to  death  like 
vitriol.  The  sermon  came  back  to  me  as  I  passed  the 
little  Mormon  homes,  and  the  bishop  rose  and  rose  in 
my  esteem,  though  not  as  one  of  the  children  of  light. 
That  sagacious  patriarch  told  his  flock  the  things  of 
week-day  wisdom  down  to  their  level,  the  cleanly 
things  next  to  godliness,  to  keep  them  from  the  mill 
ion  squalors  that  stain  our  Gentile  poor ;  and  if  he 
did  not  sound  much  like  the  Gospel,  he  and  Deuter 
onomy  were  alike  as  two  peas.  With  him  and  Moses 
thus  in  my  thoughts,  I  came  back  after  sunset,  and 
was  gratified  to  be  late  for  supper.  Jenks  had  left  the 
dining-room,  and  I  ate  in  my  own  company,  which 
had  become  lively  and  full  of  intelligent  impressions. 
These  I  sat  recording  later  in  my  journal,  when  a  hes 
itating  knock  came  at  my  bedroom,  and  two  young 
men  in  cowboy  costume  entered  like  shy  children,  en 
deavoring  to  step  without  creaking. 

"  Meakums  !"  my  delighted  mind  exclaimed,  inward 
ly  ;  but  the  yellow  one  introduced  the  black  curly  one 
as  Mr.  Follet,  who,  in  turn,  made  his  friend  Mr.  Cun 
ningham  known  to  me,  and  at  my  cordial  suggestion 
they  sat  down  with  increasing  awkwardness,  first  leav 
ing  their  hats  outside  the  door. 

"  We  seen  you  walking  around,"  said  one. 

"  Lookhv  the  country  over,"  said  the  other. 

"  Fine  weather  for  travelling,"  said  the  first. 

"  Dusty  though,"  said  the  second. 

Perceiving  them  to  need  my  help  in  coming  to  their 
point,  I  said,  "  And  now  about  your  silver  mine." 

"You've  called  the  turn  on  us !"  exclaimed  yellow, 


A   PILGRIM    ON    THE   GILA  231 

and  black  curly  slapped  his  knee.  Both  of  them  sat 
looking  at  me,  laughing  enthusiastically,  and  I  gath 
ered  they  had  been  having  whiskey  this  Sunday  night. 
I  confess  that  I  offered  them  some  more,  and  when 
they  realized  my  mildness  they  told  me  with  length 
and  confidence  about  the  claims  they  had  staked  out 
on  Mount  Turnbull.  "  And  there's  lots  of  lead,  too," 
said  yellow. 

"  I  do  not  smelt,"  said  I,  "  or  deal  in  any  way  with 
ore.  I  have  come  here  without  the  intention  of  buy 
ing  anything." 

"You  ain't  the  paymaster  ?"  burst  out  black  curly, 
wrinkling  his  forehead  like  a  pleasant  dog. 

Yellow  touched  his  foot. 

"  Course  he  ain't !"  said  curly,  with  a  swerve  of  his 
eye.  "He  ain't  due.  What  awhile  it  always  is  waitin'!" 

Now  the  paymaster  was  nothing  to  me,  nor  whom 
he  paid.  For  all  I  knew,  my  visitors  were  on  his  roll ; 
and  why  yellow  should  shy  at  the  mention  of  him  and 
closely  watch  his  tipsy  mate  I  did  not  try  to  guess. 
Like  every  one  I  had  met  so  far  in  Arizona,  these  two 
evidently  doubted  I  was  here  for  my  pleasure  merely ; 
but  it  was  with  entire  good-humor  that  they  remarked 
a  man  had  the  right  to  mind  his  own  business ;  and 
so,  with  a  little  more  whiskey,  we  made  a  friendly 
parting.  They  recommended  me  to  travel  with  a 
pistol  in  this  country,  and  I  explained  that  I  should 
do  myself  more  harm  than  good  with  a  weapon  that 
any  one  handled  more  rapidly  than  I,  with  my  inex 
perience. 

"  Good-night,  Mr.  Meakum,"  I  said. 

"  Follet,"  corrected  black  curly. 

"Cunningham,"  said  yellow,  and  they  picked  up 
their  hats  in  the  hall  and  withdrew. 


232  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

I  think  now  those  were  their  names — the  time  was 
coming  when  I  should  hear  them  take  oath  on  it — yet 
I  do  not  know.  I  heard  many  curious  oaths  taken. 

I  was  glad  to  see  black  curly  in  the  stage  next  day, 
not  alone  for  his  company,  but  to  give  him  a  right 
notion  of  what  ready  money  I  had  about  me.  Think 
ing  him  over,  and  his  absence  of  visible  means  of  sup 
port,  and  his  interest  in  me,  I  took  opportunity  to 
mention,  quite  by  the  way,  that  five  or  six  dollars  was 
all  that  I  ever  carried  on  my  person,  the  rest  being  in 
New  York  drafts,  worthless  in  any  hands  but  mine. 
And  I  looked  at  the  time  once  or  twice  for  him  to  per 
ceive  the  cheapness  of  my  nickel  watch.  That  the 
Bishop  was  not  his  father  I  had  indirect  evidence 
when  we  stopped  at  Thacher  to  change  horses  and 
drop  a  mail  -  sack,  and  the  Mormon  divine  suddenly 
lifted  the  flap  and  inspected  us.  He  nodded  to  me 
and  gave  Follet  a  message. 

"  Tell  your  brother "  (wouldn't  a  father  have  said 
Tom  or  Dick  ?)  "  that  I've  given  him  chances  enough 
and  he  don't  take  'em.  He  don't  feed  my  horses,  and 
my  passengers  complain  he  don't  feed  them — though 
that's  not  so  serious  !"  said  he  to  me,  with  a  jovial  wink. 
"  But  I  won't  have  my  stock  starved.  You'll  skip  the 
station  and  go  through  to  Thomas  with  this  pair,"  he 
added  to  the  driver  in  his  voice  of  lusty  command. 
"You'll  get  supper  at  Thomas.  Everything's  moved 
on  there  from  to-day.  That's  the  rule  now."  Then 
he  returned  to  black  curly,  who,  like  the  driver,  had 
remained  cowed  and  respectful  throughout  the  short 
harangue.  "  Your  brother  could  have  treated  me 
square  and  made  money  by  that  station.  Tell  him 
that,  and  to  see  me  by  Thursday.  If  he's  thinking  of 
peddling  vegetables  this  season  I'll  let  him  sell  to 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  233 

Fort  Bowie.  Safford  takes  Carlos,  and  I  won't  have 
two  compete  in  the  same  market,  or  we'll  be  sinking 
low  as  Eastern  prices,"  said  he  to  me,  with  another 
wink.  "  Drive  on  now.  You're  late." 

He  shut  the  flap,  and  we  were  off  quickly — too 
quickly.  In  the  next  few  moments  I  could  feel  that 
something  all  wrong  went  on  ;  there  was  a  jingle  and 
snapping  of  harness,  and  such  a  voice  from  the  Bishop 
behind  us  that  I  looked  out  to  see  him.  We  had 
stopped,  and  he  was  running  after  us  at  a  wonderful 
pace  for  a  man  of  sixty-four. 

"  If  you  don't  drive  better  than  that,"  said  the  griz 
zled  athlete,  arriving  cool  and  competent,  "you'll  saw 
wood  for  another  year.  Look  how  you've  got  them 
trembling." 

It  was  a  young  pair,  and  they  stood  and  steamed 
while  the  broken  gear  was  mended. 

"What  did  California  hold  the  record  in  before  the 
Boy  Orator  broke  it  ?"  said  I,  getting  out. 

He  shot  at  me  the  same  sinister  look  I  had  seen  in 
the  Capitol,  the  look  he  must  always  wear,  I  suppose, 
when  taken  aback.  Then  he  laughed  broadly  and 
heartily,  a  strong  pleasant  laugh  that  nearly  made  me 
like  him.  "So  you're  that  fellow!  Ho,  ho!  Away 
down  here  now.  Oh,  ho,  ho !  What's  your  business  ?" 

"  You  wouldn't  believe  if  I  told  you,"  said  I,  to  his 
sudden  sharp  question. 

"Me  ?  Why,  I  believe  everything  I'm  told.  What's 
your  name  ?" 

"Will  you  believe  I  haven't  come  to  buy  anybody's 
silver  mine  ?" 

"  Silver  !  I  don't  keep  it.  Unloaded  ten  years  ago 
before  the  rabbit  died." 

"  Then  you're  the  first  anti-silver  man  I've  met." 


234  RED   MEN    AND   WHITE 

"  I'm  anti  anything  I  can't  sell,  young  man.  Here's 
all  there  is  to  silver :  Once  upon  a  time  it  was  hard  to 
get,  and  we  had  to  have  it.  Now  it's  easy.  When  it 
gets  as  common  as  dirt  it  '11  be  as  cheap  as  dirt.  Same 
as  watermelons  when  it's  a  big  crop.  D'you  follow  me  ? 
That's  silver  for  you,  and  I  don't  want  it.  So  you've 
come  away  down  here.  Well,  well !  What  did  you 
say  your  name  was  ?" 

I  told  him. 

"Politician?" 

"  God  forbid !" 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho !  Well,  yes.  I  took  a  look  at  those 
buzzards  there  in  Washington.  Our  Senate  and 
Representatives.  They  were  screeching  a  heap.  All 
about  ratios.  You'll  be  sawing  wood  yet !"  he  shouted 
to  the  driver,  and  strode  up  to  help  him  back  a  horse. 
"  Now  ratio  is  a  good-sounding  word  too,  and  I  guess 
that's  why  they  chew  on  it  so  constant.  Better  line 
of  language  that  they  get  at  home.  I'll  tell  you  about 
Congress.  Here's  all  there  is  to  it :  You  can  divide 
them  birds  in  two  lots.  Those  who  know  better  and 
those  who  don't.  D'you  follow  me  ?" 

"And  which  kind  is  the  Boy  Orator?" 

"Limber  Jim?  Oh,  he  knows  better.  I  know  Jim. 
You  see,  we  used  to  have  a  saying  in  Salt  Lake  that 
California  had  the  smallest  stoves  and  the  biggest  liars 
in  the  world.  Now  Jim — well,  there's  an  old  saying 
busted.  But  you'll  see  Arizona  '11  go  back  on  the 
Democrats.  If  they  put  wool  on  the  free  list  she'll 
stay  Republican,  and  they  won't  want  her  admitted, 
which  suits  me  first-rate.  My  people  here  are  better 
off  as  they  stand." 

"But. your  friend  Mr.  Jenks  favors  admission!"  I 
exclaimed. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  235 

"  Luke  ?  He's  been  talking  to  you,  has  he  ?  Well 
now,  Luke.  Here's  all  there  is  to  him :  Natural  gas. 
That's  why  I  support  him,  you  see.  If  we  sent  a  real 
smart  man  to  Washington  he  might  get  us  made  a 
State.  Ho,  ho !  But  Luke  stays  here  most  of  the 
time,  and  he's  no  good  anyway.  Oh,  ho,  ho !  So 
you're  buying  no  mines  this  season  ?" 

Once  more  I  found  myself  narrating  the  insignifi 
cance  of  my  visit  to  Arizona — the  Bishop  must  have 
been  a  hard  inquisitor  for  even  the  deeply  skilful  to 
elude — and  for  the  first  time  my  word  was  believed. 
He  quickly  took  my  measure,  saw  that  I  had  nothing 
to  hide,  and  after  telling  me  I  could  find  good  hunting 
and  scenery  in  the  mountains  north,  paid  me  no  fur 
ther  attention,  but  masterfully  laid  some  final  com 
mands  on  the  intimidated  driver.  Then  I  bade  good 
bye  to  the  Bishop,  and  watched  that  old  locomotive 
moving  vigorously  back  along  the  road  to  his  mani 
fold  business. 

The  driver  was  ill  pleased  to  go  hungry  for  his  sup 
per  until  Thomas,  but  he  did  not  dare  complain  much 
over  the  new  rule,  even  to  black  curly  and  me.  This 
and  one  other  thing  impressed  me.  Some  miles  far 
ther  on  we  had  passed  out  of  the  dust  for  a  while,  and 
rolled  up  the  flaps. 

"  She's  waiting  for  you,"  said  the  driver  to  black 
curly,  and  that  many-sided  youth  instantly  dived  to 
the  bottom  of  the  stage,  his  boots  and  pistol  among 
my  legs. 

"  Throw  your  coat  over  me,"  he  urged. 

I  concealed  him  with  that  and  a  mail -sack,  and 
stretched  my  head  out  to  see  what  lioness  stood  in 
his  path.  But  it  was  only  a  homelike  little  cabin,  and 
at  the  door  a  woman,  comely  and  mature,  eying  the 


336  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

stage  expectantly.  Possibly  wife,  I  thought,  more 
likely  mother,  and  I  asked,  "  Is  Mrs.  Follet  strict  ?" 
choosing  a  name  to  fit  either. 

The  driver  choked  and  chirruped,  but  no  sound 
came  from  under  the  mail-sack  until  we  had  passed 
the  good-day  to  the  momentous  female,  whose  response 
was  harsh  with  displeasure  as  she  wheeled  into  her 
door.  A  sulky  voice  then  said,  "  Tell  me  when  she's 
gone,  Bill."  But  we  were  a  safe  two  hundred  yards 
on  the  road  before  he  would  lift  his  head,  and  his 
spirits  were  darkened  during  the  remainder  of  the 
journey. 

"  Come  and  live  East,"  said  I,  inviting  him  to  some 
whiskey  at  the  same  time.  "Back  there  they  don't 
begin  sitting  up  for  you  so  early  in  the  evening." 

This  did  not  enliven  him,  although  upon  our  driver 
it  seemed  to  bring  another  fit  as  much  beyond  the 
proportion  of  my  joke  as  his  first  had  been.  "  She 
tires  a  man's  spirit,"  said  black  curly,  and  with  this 
rueful  utterance  he  abandoned  the  subject ;  so  that 
when  we  reached  Thomas  in  the  dim  night  my  curi 
osity  was  strong,  and  I  paid  little  heed  to  this  new 
place  where  I  had  come  or  to  my  supper.  Black 
curly  had  taken  himself  off,  and  the  driver  sat  at  the 
table  with  me,  still  occasionally  snickering  in  his  plate. 
He  would  explain  nothing  that  I  asked  him  until  the 
gaunt  woman  who  waited  on  us  left  us  for  the  kitch 
en,  when  he  said,  with  a  nervous,  hasty  relish,  "  The 
Widow  Sproud  is  slick,"  and  departed. 

Consoled  by  no  better  clew  than  this  I  went  to  bed 
in  a  down-stairs  room,  and  in  my  strange  rising  next 
day  I  did  not  see  the  driver  again.  Callings  in  the 
air  awaked  me,  and  a  wandering  sound  of  wheels. 
The  gaunt  woman  stood  with  a  lamp  in  my  room  say- 


A   PILGRIM   ON    THE   GILA  237 

ing  the  stage  was  ready,  and  disappeared.  I  sprang 
up  blindlyr  and  again  the  callings  passed  in  the  black 
ness  outside — long  cries,  inarticulate  to  me.  Wheels 
heavily  rolled  to  my  door,  and  a  whip  was  struck 
against  it,  and  there  loomed  the  stage,  and  I  made 
out  the  calling.  It  was  the  three  drivers,  about  to 
separate  before  the  dawn  on  their  three  diverging 
ways,  and  they  were  wailing  their  departure  through 
the  town  that  travellers  might  hear,  in  whatever  place 
they  lay  sleeping.  "  Boo  -  wie  !  All  aboa-rd  !"  came 
from  somewhere,  dreary  and  wavering,  met  at  far 
ther  distance  by  the  floating  antiphonal,  "Aboa-rd, 
aboa-rd  for  Grant !"  and  in  the  chill  black  air  my 
driver  lifted  his  portion  of  the  strain,  chanting,  "  Car 
los  !  Car-los  !"  One  last  time  he  circled  in  the  near 
er  darkness  with  his  stage  to  let  me  dress.  Mostly 
unbuttoned,  and  with  not  even  a  half  minute  to 
splash  cold  water  in  my  eyes,  I  clambered  solitary 
into  the  vehicle  and  sat  among  the  leather  mail-bags, 
some  boxes,  and  a  sack  of  grain,  having  four  hours 
yet  till  breakfast  for  my  contemplation.  I  heard  the 
faint  reveille  at  Camp  Thomas,  but  to  me  it  was  a  call 
for  more  bed,  and  I  pushed  and  pulled  the  grain-sack 
until  I  was  able  to  distribute  myself  and  in  a  manner 
doze,  shivering  in  my  overcoat.  Not  the  rising  of  the 
sun  upon  this  blight  of  sand,  nor  the  appearance  of  a 
cattle  herd,  and  both  black  curly  and  yellow  driving 
it  among  its  dust  clouds,  warmed  my  frozen  attention 
as  I  lay  in  a  sort  of  spell.  I  saw  with  apathy  the 
mountains,  extraordinary  in  the  crystal  prism  of  the 
air,  and  soon  after  the  strangest  scene  I  have  ever 
looked  on  by  the  light  of  day.  For  as  we  went  along 
the  driver  would  give  a  cry,  and  when  an  answering 
cry  came  from  the  thorn-bush  we  stopped,  and  a  naked 


238  RED   MEN    AND   WHITE 

Indian  would  appear,  running,  to  receive  a  little  parcel 
of  salt  or  sugar  or  tobacco  he  had  yesterday  given 
the  driver  some  humble  coin  to  buy  for  him  in  Thom 
as.  With  changeless  pagan  eyes  staring  a  moment 
at  me  on  my  sack  of  grain,  and  a  grunt  when  his  pur 
chase  was  set  in  his  hands,  each  black-haired  desert 
figure  turned  away,  the  bare  feet  moving  silent,  and 
the  copper  body,  stark  naked  except  the  breech-clout, 
receding  to  dimness  in  the  thorn-bush.  But  I  lay  in 
curious  at  this  new  vision  of  what  our  wide  conti 
nent  holds  in  fee  under  the  single  title  United  States, 
until  breakfast  came.  This  helped  me,  and  I  livened 
somewhat  at  finding  the  driver  and  the  breakfast  man 
were  both  genuine  Meakums,  as  Jenks  had  told  me 
they  would  be. 

It  surprised  me  to  discover  now  that  I  was  looked 
for  along  the  Gila,  and  my  name  approximately  known, 
and  when  I  asked  if  my  friend  Captain  Stirling  had 
spoken  of  my  coming,  it  was  evidently  not  he,  but  the 
news  was  in  the  air.  This  was  a  prominence  I  had 
never  attained  in  any  previous  part  of  the  world,  and 
I  said  to  the  driver  that  I  supposed  my  having  no 
business  made  me  a  curiosity.  That  might  have 
something  to  do  with  it,  he  answered  (he  seemed  to 
have  a  literal  mind),  but  some  had  thought  I  was  the 
paymaster, 

"  Folks  up  here,"  he  explained,  "  are  liable  to  know 
who's  coming." 

"  If  I  lived  here,"  said  I,  "  I  should  be  anxious  for 
the  paymaster  to  come  early  and  often." 

"Well,  it  does  the  country  good.  The  soldiers 
spend  it  all  right  here,  and  us  civilians  profit  some 
by  it." 

Having  got  him  into  conversation,  I  began  to  in- 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  339 

troduce  the  subject  of  black  curly,  hoping  to  lead  up 
to  the  Widow  Sproud ;  but  before  I  had  compassed 
this  we  reached  San  Carlos,  where  a  blow  awaited  me. 
Stirling,  my  host,  had  been  detailed  on  a  scout  this 
morning !  I  was  stranded  here,  a  stranger,  where  I 
had  come  thousands  of  miles  to  see  an  old  friend. 
His  regret  and  messages  to  make  myself  at  home,  and 
the  quartermaster's  hearty  will  to  help  me  to  do  so 
could  not  cure  my  blankness.  He  might  be  absent 
two  weeks  or  more.  I  looked  round  at  Carlos  and  its 
staring  sand.  Then  I  resolved  to  go  at  once  to  my 
other  friends  now  stationed  at  Fort  Grant.  For  I  had 
begun  to  feel  myself  at  an  immense  distance  from  any 
who  would  care  what  happened  to  me  for  good  or  ill, 
and  I  longed  to  see  some  face  I  had  known  before. 
So  in  gloom  I  retraced  some  unattractive  steps.  This 
same  afternoon  I  staged  back  along  the  sordid,  in 
competent  Gila  River,  and  to  kill  time  pushed  my 
Sproud  inquiry,  at  length  with  success.  To  check 
the  inevitably  slipshod  morals  of  a  frontier  common 
wealth,  Arizona  has  a  statute  that  in  reality  only 
sets  in  writing  a  presumption  of  the  common  law, 
the  ancient  presumption  of  marriage,  which  is  that 
when  a  man  and  w<fman  go  to  house-keeping  for  a  cer 
tain  length  of  time,  they  shall  be  deemed  legally  mar 
ried.  In  Arizona  this  period  is  set  at  twelve  months, 
and  ten  had  run  against  Mrs.  Sproud  and  young 
Follet.  He  was  showing  signs  of  leaving  her.  The 
driver  did  not  think  her  much  entitled  to  sympathy, 
and  certainly  she  showed  later  that  she  could  devise 
revenge.  As  I  thought  over  these  things  we  came 
again  to  the  cattle  herd,  where  my  reappearance 
astonished  yellow  and  black  curly.  Nor  did  the  va 
riance  between  my  movements  and  my  reported  plans 


240  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

seem  wholly  explained  to  them  by  Stirling's  absence, 
and  at  the  station  where  I  had  breakfasted  I  saw 
them  question  the  driver  about  me.  This  interest  in 
my  affairs  heightened  my  desire  to  reach  Fort  Grant ; 
and  when  next  day  I  came  to  it  after  another  waking 
to  the  chanted  antiphonals  and  another  faint  reveille 
from  Camp  Thomas  in  the  waning  dark,  extreme  com 
fort  spread  through  me.  I  sat  in  the  club  with  the 
officers,  and  they  taught  me  a  new  game  of  cards 
called  Solo,  and  filled  my  glass,  Here  were  lieuten 
ants,  captains,  a  major,  and  a  colonel,  American  citi 
zens  with  a  love  of  their  country  and  a  standard  of 
honor ;  here  floated  our  bright  flag  serene  against  the 
lofty  blue,  and  the  mellow  horns  sounded  at  guard- 
mounting,  bringing  moisture  to  the  eyes.  The  day  was 
punctuated  with  the  bright  trumpet,  people  went  and 
came  in  the  simple  dignity  of  duty,  and  once  again  I 
talked  with  good  men  and  women.  God  bless  our 
soldier  people  !  I  said  it  often. 

They  somewhat  derided  my  uneasiness  in  the  Gila 
Valley,  and  found  my  surmisings  sensational.  Yet 
still  they  agreed  much  ready  money  was  an  unwise 
thing  on  a  stage  journey,  although  their  profession  (I 
suppose)  led  them  to  take  being  4'  held  up  "  less  se 
riously  than  I  with  my  peaceful  traditions  of  elevators 
and  the  down-town  lunch.  In  the  wide  Sulphur 
Springs  valley  where  I  rode  at  large,  but  never  so 
long  or  so  far  that  Fort  Grant  lay  not  in  sight  across 
that  miracle  of  air,  it  displeased  me  to  come  one 
morning  upon  yellow  and  black  curly  jogging  along 
beneath  the  government  telegraph  line. 

"  You  cover  a  wide  range,"  said  I. 

"  Cowboys  have  to,"  they  answered.  "  So  you've 
not  quit  us  yet  ?" 


A    PILGRIM    ON   THE    GILA  241 

"I'm  thinking  of  taking  a  hunt  and  fish  towards 
Fort  Apache." 

"  We're  your  men,  then.  You'll  find  us  at  Thomas 
any  time.  We're  gathering  stock  up  these  draws,  but 
that  '11  be  through  this  week." 

They  spurred  their  horses  and  vanished  among  the 
steep  little  hills  that  run  up  to  Mount  Graham.  But 
indeed  they  should  be  no  men  of  mine  !  Stirling  had 
written  me  his  scout  was  ended,  and  San  Carlos  worth 
a  longer  visit  than  I  had  made  there,  promising  me  an 
escort  should  I  desire  to  camp  in  the  mountains.  An 
escort  it  should  be,  and  no  yellow  or  black  curly,  over- 
curious  about  my  private  matters !  This  fell  in  ex 
cellently  with  the  coming  paymaster's  movements. 
Major  Pidcock  was  even  now  on  his  way  to  Fort 
Grant  from  Fort  Bowie  ;  and  when  he  went  to  Thomas 
and  Carlos  I  would  go,  too,  in  his  ambulance ;  and 
I  sighed  with  pleasure  at  escaping  that  stage  again. 

Major  Pidcock  arrived  in  a  yellow  duster,  but  in 
other  respects  differed  from  the  Bishop,  though  in  his 
body  a  bulky  man.  We  were  introduced  to  each 
other  at  the  club. 

"  I  am  glad,  sir,  to  meet  you  at  last,"  I  said  to  him. 
"The  whole  Gila  Valley  has  been  taking  me  for 
you." 

"  Oh — ah  !"  said  Pidcock,  vaguely,  and  pulling  at 
some  fat  papers  in  his  coat ;  "indeed.  I  understand 
that  is  a  very  ignorant  population.  Colonel  Vincent, 
a  word  with  you.  The  Department  Commander  re 
quests  me — "  And  here  he  went  off  into  some  official 
talk  with  the  Colonel. 

I  turned  among  the  other  officers,  who  were  stand 
ing  by  an  open  locker  having  whiskey,  and  Major 
Evlie  put  his  hand  on  my  shoulder.  "  He  doesn't 

16 


242  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

mean  anything,"  he  whispered,  while  the  rest  looked 
knowingly  at  me.  Presently  the  Colonel  explained 
to  Pidcock  that  he  would  have  me  to  keep  him  com 
pany  to  Carlos. 

44  Oh — ah,  Colonel.  Of  course  we  don't  take  civil 
ians  not  employed  by  the  government,  as  a  rule.  But 
exceptions — ah — can  be  made,"  he  said  to  me.  "  I 
will  ask  you  to  be  ready  immediately  after  breakfast 
to-morrow."  And  with  that  he  bowed  to  us  all  and 
sailed  forth  across  the  parade-ground. 

The  Colonel's  face  was  red,  and  he  swore  in  his 
quiet  voice;  but  the  lips  of  the  lieutenants  by  the 
open  locker  quivered  fitfully  in  the  silence. 

"  Don't  mind  Pidcock,"  Evlie  remarked.  "  He's  a 
paymaster."  And  at  this  the  line  officers  became 
disorderly,  and  two  lieutenants  danced  together ;  so 
that,  without  catching  Evlie's  evidently  military  joke, 
I  felt  pacified. 

"  And  I've  got  to  have  him  to  dinner,"  sighed  the 
Colonel,  and  wandered  away. 

44  You'll  get  on  with  him,  man — you'll  get  on  with 
him  in  the  ambulance,"  said  my  friend  Paisley. 
44  Flatter  him,  man.  Just  ask  him  about  his  great 
strategic  stroke  at  Cayuse  Station  that  got  him  his 
promotion  to  the  pay  department." 

Well,  we  made  our  start  after  breakfast,  Major  Pid 
cock  and  I,  and  another  passenger  too,  who  sat  with 
the  driver — a  black  cook  going  to  the  commanding 
officer's  at  Thomas.  She  was  an  old  plantation  mam 
my,  with  a  kind  but  bewildered  face,  and  I  am  sorry 
that  the  noise  of  our  driving  lost  me  much  of  her  con 
versation  ;  for  whenever  we  slowed,  and  once  when  I 
walked  up  a -hill,  I  found  her  remarks  to  be  steeped 
in  a  flighty  charm. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  243 

"  Fo'  Lawd's  sake  !"  said  she.  "  Wat's  dat  ?"  And 
when  the  driver  told  her  that  it  was  a  jack-rabbit, 
"You  go  'long !"  she  cried,  outraged.  "  I'se  seed  rab 
bits  earlier 'n  de  mawnin'dan  yo'self."  She  watched 
the  animal  with  all  her  might,  muttering,  "  Law,  see 
him  squot,"  and  "  Hole  on,  hole  on!"  and  "Yasser, 
he  done  gone  fo'  sho.  My  grashus,  you  lemme  have 
a  scatter  shoot-gun  an'  a  spike-tail  smell  dog,  an'  I'll 
git  one  of  dey  narrah-gauge  mules." 

"  I  shall  not  notice  it,"  said  Major  Pidcock  to  me, 
with  dignity.  "But  they  should  have  sent  such  a 
creature  by  the  stage.  It's  unsuitable,  wholly." 

"Unquestionably,"  said  I,  straining  to  catch  the 
old  lady's  song  on  the  box : 

"  '  Don't  you  fo'git  I's  a-comin'  behind  you — 
Lam  slam  de  lunch  ham.'" 


"  This  is  insufferable,"  said  Pidcock.  "  I  shall  put 
her  off  at  Cedar  Springs." 

I  suppose  the  drive  was  long  to  him,  but  to  me  it 
was  not.  Noon  and  Cedar  Springs  prematurely 
ended  the  first  half  of  this  day  most  memorable  in 
the  whole  medley  of  my  excursion,  and  we  got  down 
to  dine.  Two  travellers  bound  for  Thomas  by  our 
same  road  were  just  setting  out,  but  they  firmly  de 
clined  to  transport  our  cook,  and  Pidcock  moodily 
saw  them  depart  in  their  wagon,  leaving  him  burdened 
still ;  for  this  was  the  day  the  stage  made  its  down 
trip  from  Thomas.  Never  before  had  I  seen  water 
paid  for.  When  the  Major,  with  windy  importance, 
came  to  settle  his  bill,  our  dozen  or  fourteen  escort 
horses  and  mules  made  an  item,  the  price  of  water 
ing  two  head  being  two  bits,  quite  separate  from  the 


244  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

feed;  and  I  learned  that  water  was  thus  precious  over 
most  of  the  Territory. 

Our  cook  remounted  the  box  in  high  feather,  and 
began  at  once  to  comment  upon  Arizona.  "  Dere 
ain't  no  winter,  nor  no  spring,  nor  no  rain  de  hole 
year  roun'.  My !  what  a  country  fo'  to  gib  de  chick- 
'ns  courage !  Dey  hens  must  jus'  sit  an'  lay  an'  lay. 
But  de  po'  ducks  done  have  a  mean  time. 

"  'O— Lawd ! 

Sinner  is  in  my  way,  Daniel.' " 

"I.  would  not  permit  a  cook  like  that  inside  my 
house,"  said  Major  Pidcock. 

"  She  may  not  be  dangerous,"  I  suggested. 

"Land !  is  dey  folks  gwineter  shoot  me  ?"  Naturally 
I  looked,  and  so  did  the  Major;  but  it  was  two  of 
our  own  mounted  escort  that  she  saw  out  to  the  right 
of  us  among  the  hills.  "  Tell  dem  nigger  jockeys  I 
got  no  money.  Why  do  dey  triflin'  chillun  ride  in 
de  kerridge  ?"  She  did  not  mean  ourselves,  but  the 
men  with  their  carbines  in  the  escort  wagon  in  front 
of  us.  I  looked  out  at  them,  and  their  mouths  were 
wide  open  for  joy  at  her.  It  was  not  a  stately  prog 
ress  for  twenty-eight  thousand  dollars  in  gold  and  a 
paymaster  to  be  making.  Major  Pidcock  unbottoned 
his  duster  and  reclined  to  sleep,  and  presently  I  also 
felt  the  after-dinner  sloth  shutting  my  eyes  pleasantly 
to  this  black  road. 

"  Heave  it,  chillun  !  can't  you  heave  ?"  I  heard  our 
cook  say,  and  felt  us  stop. 

"  What's  that  ?"  I  asked,  drowsily. 

"  Seems  to  be  a  rock  fallen  down,"  the  Major  an 
swered.  "  Start  it,  men  ;  roll  it !" 

I  roused  myself.    We  were  between  rocks  and  banks 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  245 

on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  down  which  the  narrow  road 
descended  with  a  slight  turn.  I  could  see  the  escort 
wagon  halted  ahead  of  us,  and  beyond  it  the  men 
stooping  at  a  large  stone,  around  which  there  was  no 
possible  room  to  drive.  This  stone  had  fallen,  I  re 
flected,  since  those  travellers  for  Thomas- 
There  was  a  shot,  and  a  mule  rolled  over. 
I  shall  never  forget  that.  It  was  like  the  theatre 
for  one  paralyzed  second !  The  black  soldiers,  the 
mule,  the  hill,  all  a  clear  picture  seen  through  an 
opera-glass,  stock-still,  and  nothing  to  do  with  me — 
for  a  congealed  second.  And,  dear  me,  what  a  time 
we  had  then  ! 

Crackings  volleyed  around  us,  puffs  of  smoke  jetted 
blue  from  rock  ramparts  which  I  had  looked  at  and 
thought  natural — or,  rather,  not  thought  of  at  all — 
earth  and  gravel  spattered  up  from  the  ground,  the 
bawling  negress  spilled  off  her  box  and  ran  in  spirals, 
screaming,  "  Oh,  bless  my  soul,  bless  my  soul !"  and 
I  saw  a  yellow  duster  flap  out  of  the  ambulance. 
"  Lawd  grashus,  he's  a-leavin'  us !"  screeched  the 
cook,  and  she  changed  her  .spirals  for  a  bee-line  after 
him.  I  should  never  have  run  but  for  this  example, 
for  I  have  not  naturally  the  presence  of  mind,  and  in 
other  accidents  through  which  I  have  passed  there 
has  never  been  promptness  about  me ;  the  reasoning 
and  all  has  come  when  it  was  over,  unless  it  went  on 
pretty  long,  when  I  have  been  sometimes  able  to  leap 
to  a  conclusion.  But  yes,  I  ran  now,  straight  under  a 
screen  of  rocks,  over  the  top  of  which  rose  the  heads 
of  yellow  and  black  curly.  The  sight  of  them  sent 
rushing  over  me  the  first  agreeable  sensation  I  had 
felt — shapeless  rage — and  I  found  myself  shouting  at 
them,  "  Scoundrels !  scoundrels  P  while  shooting  con- 


246  RED   MEN  AND  WHITE 

tinued  briskly  around  me.  I  think  my  performance 
would  have  sincerely  entertained  them  could  they 
have  spared  the  time  for  it ;  and  as  it  was,  they  were 
regarding  me  with  obvious  benevolence,  when  Mr. 
Adams  looked  evilly  at  me  across  the  stones,  and 
black  curly  seized  the  old  devil's  rifle  in  time  to  do 
me  a  good  turn.  Mr.  Adams's  bullet  struck  short  of 
me  ten  feet,  throwing  the  earth  in  my  face.  Since 
then  I  have  felt  no  sympathy  for  that  tobacco-running 
pioneer.  He  listened,  coughing,  to  what  black  curly 
said  as  he  pointed  to  me,  and  I  see  now  that  I  have 
never  done  a  wiser  thing  than  to  go  unarmed  in  that 
country.  Curly  was  telling  Mr.  Adams  that  I  was 
harmless.  Indeed,  that  was  true !  In  the  bottom  of 
this  cup,  target  for  a  circled  rim  of  rifles,  separated 
from  the  widely  scattered  Major  and  his  men,  aware 
of  nothing  in  particular,  and  seeing  nothing  in  par 
ticular  but  smoke  and  rocks  and  faces  peering  every 
where,  I  walked  to  a  stone  and  sat  upon  it,  hypnotized 
again  into  a  spectator.  From  this  undisturbed  van 
tage  I  saw  shape  itself  the  theft  of  the  gold — the 
first  theft,  that  is ;  for  it  befell  me  later  to  witness  a 
ceremony  by  which  these  eagles  of  Uncle  Sam  again 
changed  hands  in  a  manner  that  stealing  is  as  good 
a  name  for  as  any. 

They  had  got  two  mules  killed,  so  that  there  could 
be  no  driving  away  in  a  hurry,  and  I  saw  that  kill 
ing  men  was  not  a  part  of  their  war,  unless  required 
as  a  means  to  their  end.  Major  Pidcock  had  spared 
them  this  necessity;  I  could  see  him  nowhere;  and 
with  him  to  imitate  I  need  not  pause  to  account  for 
the  members  of  our  dismounted  escort.  Two  sol 
diers,  indeed,  lay  on  the  ground,  the  sergeant  and 
another,  who  had  evidently  fired  a  few  resisting  shots ; 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  247 

but  let  me  say  at  once  that  these  poor  fellows  recov 
ered,  and  I  saw  them  often  again  through  this  ad 
venture  that  bound  us  together,  else  I  could  not  find 
so  much  hilarity  in  my  retrospect.  Escort  wagon  and 
ambulance  stood  empty  and  foolish  on  the  road,  and 
there  lay  the  ingenious  stone  all  by  itself,  and  the 
carbines  all  by  themselves  foolish  in  the  wagon,  where 
the  innocent  soldiers  had  left  them  on  getting  out  to 
move  the  stone.  Smoke  loitered  thin  and  blue  over 
this  now  exceedingly  quiet  scene,  and  I  smelt  it  where 
I  sat.  How  secure  the  robbers  had  felt  themselves, 
and  how  reckless  of  identification  !  Mid-day,  a  public 
road  within  hearing  of  a  ranch,  an  escort  of  a  dozen 
regulars,  no  masks,  and  the  stroke  perpetrated  at  the 
top  of  a  descent,  contrary  to  all  laws  of  road  agency. 
They  swarmed  into  sight  from  their  ramparts.  I  can 
not  tell  what  number,  but  several  I  had  never  seen 
before  and  never  saw  again ;  and  Mr.  Adams  and 
yellow  and  black  curly  looked  so  natural  that  I  won 
dered  if  Jenks  and  the  Bishop  would  come  climbing 
down  too.  But  no  more  old  friends  turned  up  that 
day.  Some  went  to  the  ambulance  swift  and  silent, 
while  others  most  needlessly  stood  guard.  Nothing 
was  in  sight  but  my  seated  inoffensive  form,  and  the 
only  sound  was,  somewhere  among  the  rocks,  the 
voice  of  the  incessant  negress  speeding  through  her 
prayers.  I  saw  them  at  the  ambulance,  surrounding, 
passing,  lifting,  stepping  in  and  out,  ferreting,  then 
moving  slowly  up  with  their  booty  round  the  hill's 
brow.  Then  silence  ;  then  hoofs  ;  then  silence  again, 
except  the  outpouring  negress,  scriptural,  melodious, 
symbolic : 

'"Oh— Lawd! 

Sinner  is  in  my  way,  Daniel.'" 


248  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

All  this  while  I  sat  on  the  stone.  "They  have 
done  us  brown,"  I  said  aloud,  and  hearing  my  voice 
waked  me  from  whatever  state  I  had  been  in.  My 
senses  bounded,  and  I  ran  to  the  hurt  soldiers.  One 
was  very  sick.  I  should  not  have  known  what  to  do 
for  them,  but  people  began  to  arrive,  brought  from 
several  quarters  by  the  fusillade  —  two  in  a  wagon 
from  Cedar  Springs,  two  or  three  on  horses  from  the 
herds  they  were  with  in  the  hills,  and  a  very  old  man 
from  somewhere,  who  offered  no  assistance  to  any 
one,  but  immediately  seated  himself  and  began  ex 
plaining  what  we  all  should  have  done.  The  negress 
came  out  of  her  rocks,  exclamatory  with  pity  over  the 
wounded,  and,  I  am  bound  to  say,  of  more  help  to 
them  than  any  of  us,  kind  and  motherly  in  the  midst 
of  her  ceaseless  discourse.  Next  arrived  Major  Pid- 
cock  in  his  duster,  and  took  charge  of  everything. 

"  Let  yer  men  quit  the'r  guns,  did  ye,  general  ?" 
piped  the  very  old  man.  "  Escort  oughtn't  never  to 
quit  the'r  guns.  I  seen  that  at  Molino  del  Rey.  And 
ye  should  have  knowed  that  there  stone  didn't  crawl 
out  in  the  road  like  a  turtus  to  git  the  sunshine." 

"  Where  were  you  ?"  thundered  the  Major  to  the 
mounted  escort,  who  now  appeared,  half  an  hour  after 
the  event,  from  our  flanks,  which  they  had  been  pro 
tecting  at  an  immense  distance.  "  Don't  you  know 
your  duty's  to  be  on  hand  when  you  hear  firing  ?" 

"  Law,  honey !"  said  the  cook,  with  a  guffaw,  "  lem- 
me  git  my  han's  over  my  mouf." 

"  See  them  walls  they  fooled  yer  with !"  continued 
the  old  man,  pointing  with  his  stick.  "  I  could  have 
told  yer  them  wasn't  natural.  Them  doesn't  show  like 
country  rock ;"  by  which  I  found  that  he  meant  their 
faces  were  new-exposed  and  not  weather-beaten. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  249 

"  No  doubt  you  could  have  saved  us,  my  friend," 
said  the  Major,  puffing  blandly. 

But  one  cannot  readily  impress  ninety  summers. 
"  Yes,  I  could  have  told  yer  that,"  assented  the  sage, 
with  senile  complacence.  "My  wife  could  have  told 
yer  that.  Any  smart  girl  could  have  told  yer  that." 

"  I  shall  send  a  despatch  for  re-enforcements,"  an 
nounced  Pidcock.  "  Tap  the  telegraph  wire,"  he  or 
dered. 

"  I  have  to  repawt  to  the  Major,"  said  a  soldier,  sa 
luting,  "  dat  de  line  is  cut." 

At  this  I  was  taken  with  indecent  laughter,  and 
turned  away,  while  ninety  summers  observed,  "  Of 
course  them  boys  would  cut  the  wire  if  they  knew 
their  business." 

Swearing  capably,  the  Major  now  accounted  clearly 
to  us  for  the  whole  occurrence,  striding  up  and  down, 
while  we  lifted  the  hurt  men  into  the  ranch  wagon, 
and  arranged  for  their  care  at  Cedar  Springs.  The 
escort  wagon  hurried  on  to  Thomas  for  a  doctor. 
The  ambulance  was,  of  course,  crippled  of  half  its 
team,  and  the  dead  mules  were  cleared  from  their  har 
ness  and  got  to  the  road-side.  Having  satisfactorily 
delivered  himself  of  his  explanation,  the  Major  now 
organized  a  party  for  following  the  trail  of  the  robbers, 
to  learn  into  what  region  they  had  betaken  themselves. 
Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  after  my  late  unenterprising 
conduct,  I  asked  one  of  the  riders  to  lend  me  his  horse, 
which  he  did,  remarking  that  he  should  not  need  it  for 
an  hour,  and  that  he  was  willing  to  risk  my  staying  ab 
sent  longer  than  that. 

So  we  rode  away.  The  trail  was  clear,  and  we  had 
but  little  trouble  to  follow  it.  It  took  us  off  to  the 
right  through  a  mounded  labyrinth  of  hillocks,  puny 


250  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

and  gray  like  ash-heaps,  where  we  rose  and  fell  in  the 
trough  of  the  sullen  landscape.  I  told  Pidcock  of  my 
certainty  about  three  of  the  robbers,  but  he  seemed  to 
care  nothing  for  this,  and  was  something  less  than  civil 
at  what  he  called  my  suggestions. 

"  When  I  have  ascertained  their  route,"  he  said,  "  it 
will  be  time  enough  to  talk  of  their  identity." 

In  this  way  we  went  for  a  mile  or  so,  the  trail  lead 
ing  us  onward,  frank  and  straight,  to  the  top  of  a  some 
what  higher  hill,  where  it  suddenly  expired  off  the 
earth.  No  breath  vanishes  cleaner  from  glass,  and  it 
brought  us  to  a  dead  halt.  We  retraced  the  tracks  to 
make  sure  we  had  not  lost  them  before,  but  there  was 
no  mistake,  and  again  we  halted  dead  at  the  vanishing- 
point.  Here  were  signs  that  something  out  of  the 
common  had  happened.  Men's  feet  and  horseshoe 
prints,  aimless  and  superimposed,  marked  a  trodden 
frame  of  ground,  inside  which  was  nothing,  and  be 
yond  which  nothing  lay  but  those  faint  tracks  of  wan 
dering  cattle  and  horses  that  scatter  everywhere  in 
this  country.  Not  one  defined  series,  not  even  a  sin 
gle  shod  horse,  had  gone  over  this  hill,  and  we  spent 
some  minutes  vainly  scouring  in  circles  wider  and 
wider.  Often  I  returned  to  stare  at  the  trodden,  im 
perturbable  frame  of  ground,  and  caught  myself  in 
specting  first  the  upper  air,  and  next  the  earth,  and 
speculating  if  the  hill  were  hollow ;  and  mystery  be 
gan  to  film  over  the  hitherto  sharp  figures  of  black 
curly  and  yellow,  while  the  lonely  country  around 
grew  so  unpleasant  to  my  nerves  that  I  was  glad  when 
Pidcock  decided  that  he  must  give  up  for  to-day.  We 
found  the  little  group  of  people  beginning  to  disperse 
at  the  ambulance. 

"Fooled  yer  ag'in,  did  they?"  said  the  old  man. 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  251 

"Played  the  blanket  trick  on  yer,  I  expect.  Guess 
yer  gold's  got  pretty  far  by  now."  With  this  parting, 
and  propped  upon  his  stick,  he  went  as  he  had  come. 
Not  even  at  any  time  of  his  youth,  I  think,  could  he 
have  been  companionable,  and  old  age  had  certainly 
filled  him  with  the  impartial  malevolence  of  the  devil. 
I  rejoice  to  say  that  he  presided  at  none  of  our  further 
misadventures. 

Short  twenty-eight  thousand  dollars  and  two  mules, 
we  set  out  anew,  the  Major,  the  cook,  and  I,  along  the 
Thomas  road,  with  the  sun  drawing  closer  down  upon 
the  long  steel  saw  that  the  peaks  to  our  westward 
made.  The  site  of  my  shock  lay  behind  me — I  knew 
now  well  enough  that  it  had  been  a  shock,  and  that 
for  a  long  while  to  come  I  should  be  able  to  feel  the 
earth  spatter  from  Mr.  Adams's  bullet  against  my  ear 
and  sleeve  whenever  I  might  choose  to  conjure  that 
moment  up  again — and  the  present  comfort  in  feeling 
my  distance  from  that  stone  in  the  road  increase  con 
tinually  put  me  in  more  cheerful  spirits.  With  the 
quick  rolling  of  the  wheels  many  subjects  for  talk 
came  into  my  mind,  and  had  I  been  seated  on  the 
box  beside  the  cook  we  should  have  found  much  in 
common.  Ever  since  her  real  tenderness  to  those 
wounded  men  I  had  wished  to  ask  the  poor  old  creat 
ure  how  she  came  in  this  weary  country,  so  far  from 
the  pleasant  fields  of  cotton  and  home.  Her  hair  was 
gray,  and  she  had  seen  much,  else  she  had  never  been 
so  kind  and  skilful  at  bandaging.  And  I  am  quite 
sure  that  somewhere  in  the  chambers  of  her  incoherent 
mind  and  simple  heart  abided  the  sweet  ancient  fear 
of  God  and  love  of  her  fellow-men — virtues  I  had  met 
but  little  in  Arizona. 

"  De  hole  family,  scusin'  two,"  she  was  saying,  "  dey 


252  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

bust  loose  and  tuck  to  de  woods."  And  then  she 
moralized  upon  the  two  who  stayed  behind  and  were 
shot.  "  But  de  Gennul  he  'low  dat  wuz  mighty  pore 
reasoninV 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  exchange  views  with  her, 
for  Major  Pidcock  was  dull  company.  This  prudent 
officer  was  not  growing  distant  from  his  disaster,  and 
as  night  began  to  come,  and  we  neared  Thomas,  I  sup 
pose  the  thought  that  our  ambulance  was  driving  him 
perhaps  to  a  court-martial  was  enough  to  submerge 
the  man  in  gloom.  To  me  and  my  news  about  the 
robbers  he  was  a  little  more  considerate,  although  he 
still  made  nothing  of  the  fact  that  some  of  them  lived 
in  the  Gila  Valley,  and  were  of  the  patriarchal  tribe 
of  Meakum. 

"  Scoundrels  like  that,"  he  muttered,  lugubriously, 
"know  every  trail  in  the  country,  and  belong  nowhere. 
Mexico  is  not  a  long  ride  from  here.  They  can  get  a 
steamer  at  Guaymas  and  take  their  choice  of  ports 
down  to  Valparaiso.  Yes,  they'll  probably  spend 
that  money  in  South  America.  Oh,  confound  that 
woman  !" 

For  the  now  entirely  cheerful  negress  was  singing : 

"  '  Dar's  de  gal,  dar's  my  Susanna. 
How  by  -gum  you  know  ? 
Know  her  by  de  red  bandanna, 
An'  de  shoestring  hangin'  on  de  flo' — 
Dad  blam  her  ! — 
An'  de  shoestring  hangin' — 

Goodness  grashus  !  what  you  gwineter  do  ?" 

At  this  sudden  cry  and  the  stopping  of  the  ambu 
lance  I  thought  more  people  were  come  for  our  gold, 
and  my  spirit  resigned  itself.  Sit  still  was  all  I  should 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  253 

do  now,  and  look  for  the  bright  day  when  I  should 
leave  Arizona  forever.  But  it  was  only  Mrs.  Sproud. 
I  had  clean  forgotten  her,  and  did  not  at  once  take  in 
to  what  an  important  turn  the  affairs  of  some  of  us  had 
come.  She  stepped  out  of  the  darkness,  and  put  her 
hand  on  the  door  of  the  ambulance. 

"  I  suppose  you're  the  Paymaster  ?"  Her  voice  was 
soft  and  easy,  but  had  an  ample  volume.  As  Pidcock 
was  replying  with  some  dignity  that  she  was  correct, 
she  caught  sight  of  me.  "  Who  is  this  man  ?"  she  in 
terrupted  him. 

"  My  clerk,"  said  Pidcock ;  and  this  is  the  promptest 
thing  I  can  remember  of  the  Major,  always  except 
ing  his  conduct  when  the  firing  began  on  the  hill. 
"  You're  asking  a  good  many  questions,  madam,"  he 
added. 

"  I  want  to  know  who  I'm  talking  to,"  said  she, 
quietly.  "  I  think  I've  seen  property  of  yours  this 
evening." 

"You  had  better  get  in,  madam ;  better  get  in." 

"  This  is  the  Paymaster's  team  from  Fort  Grant  ?" 
said  Mrs.  Sproud  to  the  driver. 

"  Yes,  yes,  madam.  Major  Pidcock — I  am  Major 
Pidcock,  Paymaster  to  the  United  States  army  in  the 
Department  of  Colorado.  I  suppose  I  understand 
you." 

"  Seven  canvas  sacks,"  said  Mrs.  Sproud,  standing 
in  the  road. 

"  Get  in,  madam.  You  can't  tell  who  may  be  with 
in  hearing.  You  will  find  it  to  your  advantage  to 
keep  nothing — " 

Mrs.  Sproud  laughed  luxuriously,  and  I  began  to 
discern  why  black  curly  might  at  times  have  been 
loath  to  face  her. 


254 


RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 


"  I  merely  meant,  madam  —  I  desired  to  make  it 
clear  that— a — " 

"  I  think  I  know  what  you  meant.  But  I  have  no 
call  to  fear  the  law.  It  will  save  you  trouble  to  be 
lieve  that  before  we  go  any  further." 

"  Certainly,  madam.  Quite  right."  The  man  was 
sweating.  What  with  court-martial  and  Mrs.  Sproud, 
his  withers  were  wrung.  "  You  are  entirely  sure,  of 
course,  madam — " 

"  I  am  entirely  sure  I  know  what  I  am  about.  That 
seems  to  be  more  than  some  do  that  are  interested  in 
this  gold — the  folks,  for  instance,  that  have  hid  it  in 
my  hay-stack." 

"  Hay-stack  !     Then  they're  not  gone  to  Mexico !" 

"  Mexico,  sir  ?  They  live  right  here  in  this  valley. 
Now  I'll  get  in,  and  when  I  ask  you,  you  will  please 
to  set  me  down."  She  seated  herself  opposite  us  and 
struck  a  match.  "  Now  we  know  what  we  all  look 
like,"  said  she,  holding  the  light  up,  massive  and 
handsome.  "This  young  man  is  the  clerk,  and  we 
needn't  mind  him.  I  have  done  nothing  to  fear  the 
law,  but  what  I  am  doing  now  will  make  me  a  trav 
eller  again.  I  have  no  friends  here.  I  was  acquainted 
with  a  young  man."  She  spoke  in  the  serenest  tone, 
but  let  fall  the  match  more  quickly  than  its  burning 
made  needful.  "  He  was  welcome  in  my  home.  He 
let  them  cook  this  up  in  my  house  and  never  told  me. 
I  live  a  good  ways  out  on  the  road,  and  it  was  a  safe 
place,  but  I  didn't  think  why  so  many  met  him,  and 
why  they  sat  around  my  stable.  Once  in  a  while  this 
week  they've  been  joking  about  winning  the  soldiers' 
pay — they  often  win  that — but  I  thought  it  was  just 
cowboy  games,  till  I  heard  horses  coming  quick  at 
sundown  this  afternoon,  and  I  hid.  Will  hunted 


A  PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  255 

around  and  said — and  said  I  was  on  the  stage  com- 
ing  from  Solomonsville,  and  so  they  had  half  an  hour 
yet.  He  thought  so.  And,  you  see,  nobody  lives  in 
the  cabin  but — but  me."  Mrs.  Sproud  paused  a  mo 
ment  here,  and  I  noticed  her  breathing.  Then  she 
resumed :  "  So  I  heard  them  talk  some ;  and  when 
they  all  left,  pretty  soon,  I  went  to  the  hay-stack,  and 
it  was  so.  Then  the  stage  came  along  and  I  rode  to 
Thomas." 

"  You  left  the  gold  there  !"  groaned  the  wretched 
Major,  and  leaned  out  of  the  ambulance. 

"I'm  not  caring  to  touch  what's  none  of  mine. 
Wait,  sir,  please;  I  get  out  here.  Here  are  the 
names  I'm  sure  of.  Stop  the  driver,  or  I'll  jump." 
She  put  a  paper  in  the  Major's  hand.  "It  is  Mrs. 
Sproud's  hay-stack,"  she  added. 

"Will  you  —  this  will  never — can  I  find  you  to 
morrow  ?"  he  said,  helplessly,  holding  the  paper  out 
at  her. 

"  I  have  told  you  all  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Sproud, 
and  was  gone  at  once. 

Major  Pidcock  leaned  back  for  some  moments  as 
we  drove.  Then  he  began  folding  his  paper  with 
care.  "  I  have  not  done  with  that  person,"  said  he, 
attempting  to  restore  his  crippled  importance.  "  She 
will  find  that  she  must  explain  herself." 

Our  wheels  whirled  in  the  sand  and  we  came 
quickly  to  Thomas,  to  a  crowd  of  waiting  officers  and 
ladies ;  and  each  of  us  had  an  audience  that  night — 
the  cook,  I  feel  sure,  while  I  myself  was  of  an  im 
portance  second  only  to  the  Major's.  But  he  was  at 
once  closeted  with  the  commanding  officer,  and  I  did 
not  learn  their  counsels,  hearing  only  at  breakfast 
that  the  first  step  was  taken.  The  detail  sent  out  had 


256  RED    MEN   AND   WHITE 

returned  from  the  hay-stack,  bringing  gold  indeed — 
one-half  sackful.  The  other  six  were  gone,  and  so 
was  Mrs.  Sproud.  It  was  useless  to  surmise,  as  we. 
however,  did  that  whole  forenoon,  what  any  of  this 
might  mean;  but  in  the  afternoon  came  a  sign.  A 
citizen  of  the  Gila  Valley  had  been  paying  his  many 
debts  at  the  saloon  and  through  the  neighborhood  in 
gold.  In  one  well  known  for  the  past  two  years  to 
be  without  a  penny  it  was  the  wrong  moment  to 
choose  for  honest  affluence,  and  this  citizen  was  the 
first  arrest.  This  further  instance  of  how  secure  the 
robbers  felt  themselves  to  be  outdid  anything  that 
had  happened  yet,  and  I  marvelled  until  following 
events  took  from  me  the  power  of  astonishment.  The 
men  named  on  Mrs.  Sproud's  paper  were  fewer  than 
I  think  fired  upon  us  in  the  attack,  but  every  one  of 
them  was  here  in  the  valley,  going  about  his  business. 
Most  were  with  the  same  herd  of  cattle  that  I  had 
seen  driven  by  yellow  and  black  curly  near  the  sub- 
agency,  and  they  two  were  there.  The  solvent  debtor, 
I  should  say,  was  not  arrested  this  morning.  Plans 
that  I,  of  course,  had  no  part  in  delayed  matters,  I 
suppose  for  the  sake  of  certainty.  Black  curly  and 
his  friends  were  watched,  and  found  to  be  spending 
no  gold  yet;  and  since  they  did  not  show  sign  of 
leaving  the  region,  but  continued  with  their  cattle,  I 
imagine  every  effort  was  being  made  to  light  upon 
their  hidden  treasure.  But  their  time  came,  and  soon 
after  it  mine.  Stirling,  my  friend,  to  whom  I  had 
finally  gone  at  Carlos,  opened  the  wire  door  of  his 
quarters  where  I  sat  one  morning,  and  with  a  heart 
less  smile  introduced  me  to  a  gentleman  from  Tucson. 
"  You'll  have  a  chance  to  serve  your  country,"  said 
Stirling. 


A   FILGRIM   ON   THE   GlLA  257 

I  was  subpoenaed ! 

"  Certainly  not !"  I  said,  with  indignation.  "  I'm 
going  East.  I  don't  live  here.  You  have  witnesses 
enough  without  me.  We  all  saw  the  same  thing." 

"  Witnesses  never  see  the  same  thing,"  observed 
the  man  from  Tucson.  "  It's  the  government  that's 
after  you.  But  you'll  not  have  to  wait.  Our  case  is 
first  on  the  list." 

"You  can  take  my  deposition,"  I  began ;  but  what 
need  to  dwell  upon  this  interview  ?  "  When  I  come 
to  visit  you  again,"  I  said  to  Stirling,  "let  me  know." 
And  that  pink-faced,  gray-haired  captain  still  shouted 
heartlessly. 

"  You're  an  egotist,"  said  he.  "  Think  of  the  scrape 
poor  old  Pidcock  has  got  himself  into." 

"The  government  needs  all  the  witnesses  it  can 
get,"  said  the  man  from  Tucson.  "  Luke  Jenks  is 
smart  in  some  ways." 

"  Luke  Jenks  ?"  I  sat  up  in  my  canvas  extension- 
chair. 

"Territorial  Delegate;  firm  of  Parley  and  Jenks, 
Tucson.  He's  in  it." 

"  By  heavens  !"  I  cried,  in  unmixed  delight.  "  But 
I  didn't  see  him  when  they  were  shooting  at  us." 

The  man  from  Tucson  stared  at  me  curiously.  "  He 
is  counsel  for  the  prisoners,"  he  explained. 

"  The  Delegate  to  Washington  defends  these  thieves 
who  robbed  the  United  States  ?"  I  repeated. 

"  Says  he'll  get  them  off.  He's  going  to  stay  home 
from  Washington  and  put  it  through  in  shape." 

It  was  here  that  my  powers  of  astonishment  went 
into  their  last  decline,  and  I  withheld  my  opinion 
upon  the  character  of  Mr.  Jenks  as  a  public  man.  I 
settled  comfortably  in  my  canvas  chair. 

17 


258  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

"  The  prisoners  are  citizens  of  small  means,  I  judge," 
said  I.  "  What  fee  can  they  pay  for  such  a  service  ?" 

"  Ah  !"  said  Stirling. 

"  That's  about  it,  I  guess,"  said  the  man  from  Tuc 
son.  "Luke  is  mighty  smart  in  his  law  business. 
Well,  gents,  good-day  to  you.  I  must  be  getting  after 
the  rest  of  my  witnesses." 

"  Have  you  seen  Mrs.  Sproud  ?"  I  asked  him. 

"  She's  quit  the  country.  We  can't  trace  her.  Guess 
she  was  scared." 

"  But  that  gold  !"  I  exclaimed,  when  Sterling  and  I 
were  alone.  "  What  in  the  world  have  they  done  with 
those  six  other  bags  ?" 

"  Ah  !"  said  he,  as  before.  "  Do  you  want  to  bet  on 
that  point  ?  Dollars  to  doughnuts  Uncle  Sam  never 
sees  a  cent  of  that  money  again.  I'll  stake  my  next 
quarter's  pay — " 

"  Pooh  !"  said  I.  "  That's  poor  odds  against  dough 
nuts  if  Pidcock  has  the  paying  of  it."  And  I  took  my 
turn  at  laughing  at  the  humorous  Stirling. 

"  That  Mrs.  Sproud  is  a  sensible  woman  to  have 
gone,"  said  he,  reflectively.  "They  would  know  she 
had  betrayed  them,  and  she  wouldn't  be  safe  in  the 
valley.  Witnesses  who  know  too  much  sometimes  are 
found  dead  in  this  country — but  you'll  have  govern 
ment  protection." 

"Thank  you  kindly,"  said  I.  "That's  what  I  had 
on  the  hill." 

But  Stirling  took  his  turn  at  me  again  with  fresh 
ened  mirth. 

Well,  I  think  that  we  witnesses  were  worth  govern 
ment  protection.  At  seasons  of  especial  brightness 
and  holiday,  such  as  Christmas  and  Easter,  the  thea 
tres  of  the  variety  order  have  a  phrase  which  they 


A    PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  359 

i 

sometimes  print  in  capitals  upon  their  bills — Combina 
tion  Extraordinary-  and  when  you  consider  Major 
Pidcock  and  his  pride,  and  the  old  plantation  cook, 
and  my  reserved  Eastern  self,  and  our  coal-black  escort 
of  the  hill,  more  than  a  dozen,  including  Sergeant 
Brown  and  the  private,  both  now  happily  recovered  of 
their  wounds,  you  can  see  what  appearance  we  made 
descending  together  from  the  mean  Southern  Pacific 
train  at  Tucson,  under  the  gaze  of  what  I  take  to  have 
been  the  town's  whole  population,  numbering  five 
thousand. 

Stirling,  who  had  come  to  see  us  through,  began  at 
his  persiflage  immediately,  and  congratulated  me  upon 
the  house  I  should  play  to,  speaking  of  box-office  re 
ceipts  and  a  benefit  night.  Tucson  is  more  than  half 
a  Mexican  town,  and  in  its  crowd  upon  the  platform  I 
saw  the  gaudy  shawls,  the  ear-rings,  the  steeple  straw 
hats,  the  old  shrivelled  cigarette-rolling  -apes,  and  the 
dark-eyed  girls,  and  sifted  with  these  the  loungers  of 
our  own  race,  boots,  overalls,  pistols,  hotel  clerks,  ex 
press  agents,  freight  hands,  waitresses,  red-shirts,  sol 
diers  from  Lowell  Barracks,  and  officers,  and  in  this 
mass  and  mess  of  color  and  dust  and  staring,  Bishop 
Meakum,  in  his  yellow  duster,  by  the  door  of  the  Hotel 
San  Xavier.  But  his  stare  was  not,  I  think  now,  quite 
of  the  same  idleness  with  the  rest.  He  gave  me  a 
short  nod,  yet  not  unfriendly,  as  I  passed  by  him  to 
register  my  name.  By  the  counter  I  found  the  wet- 
eyed  Mowry  standing. 

"  How's  business  on  the  other  side  of  the  track  ?"  I 
said  to  him. 

"  Fair  to  middlin'.  Get  them  mines  ye  was  after 
at  Globe?" 

"  You've  forgotten  I  told  you  they're  a  property  I 


260  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

don't  care  for,  Mr.  Mowry.  I  suppose  it's  interest  in 
this  recent  gold  discovery  that  brings  you  to  Tucson." 
He  had  no-  answer  for  me  but  a  shrewd  shirking 
glance  that  flattered  my  sense  of  acumen,  and  adding, 
pleasantly,  "  So  many  of  your  Arizona  citizens  have 
forsaken  silver  for  gold  just  now,"  I  wrote  my  name 
in  the  hotel  book,  while  he  looked  to  remind  himself 
what  it  was. 

"  Why,  you're  not  to  stay  here,"  said  Stirling,  com 
ing  up.  "  You're  expected  at  the  Barracks." 

He  presented  me  at  once  to  a  knot  of  officers,  each 
of  whom  in  turn  made  me  known  to  some  additional 
by-stander,  until  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  shook  a  new 
hand  sixty  times  in  this  disordered  minute  by  the 
hotel  book,  and  out  of  the  sixty  caught  one  name, 
which  was  my  own. 

These  many  meetings  could  not  be  made  perfect 
without  help  from  the  saloon-keeper,  who  ran  his 
thriving  trade  conveniently  at  hand  in  the  office  of 
the  San  Xavier.  Our  group  remained  near  him,  and 
I  silently  resolved  to  sleep  here  at  the  hotel,  away 
from  the  tempting  confusion  of  army  hospitality  upon 
this  eve  of  our  trial.  We  were  expected,  however,  to 
dine  at  the  post,  and  that  I  was  ready  to  do.  In 
deed,  I  could  scarcely  have  got  myself  out  of  it  with 
out  rudeness,  for  the  ambulance  was  waiting  us  guests 
at  the  gate.  We  went  to  it  along  a  latticed  passage 
at  the  edge  of  a  tropical  garden,  only  a  few  square 
yards  in  all,  but  how  pretty !  and  what  an  oasis  of 
calm  in  the  midst  of  this  teeming  desolation  of  un 
rest!  It  had  upon  one  side  the  railway  station, 
wooden,  sordid,  congesting  with  malodorous  packed 
humanity ;  on  the  next  the  rails  themselves  and  the 
platform,  with  steam  and  bells  and  baggage  trucks 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  261 

rolling  and  bumping;  the  hotel  stood  on  the  third,  a 
confusion  of  tongues  and  trampings ;  while  a  wide 
space  of  dust,  knee -deep,  and  littered  with  manoeu 
vring  vehicles,  hemmed  in  this  silent  garden  on  the 
fourth  side.  A  slender  slow  little  fountain  dropped 
inaudibly  among  some  palms,  a  giant  cactus,  and  the 
broad-spread  shade  of  trees  I  did  not  know.  This 
was  the  whole  garden,  and  a  tame  young  antelope  was 
its  inhabitant.  He  lay  in  the  unchanging  shade,  his 
large  eyes  fixed  remotely  upon  the  turmoil  of  this 
world,  and  a  sleepy  charm  touched  my  senses  as  I 
looked  at  his  domain.  Instead  of  going  to  dinner,  or 
going  anywhere,  I  should  have  liked  to  recline  indefi 
nitely  beneath  those  palms  and  trail  my  fingers  in  the 
cool  fountain.  Such  enlightened  languor,  however, 
could  by  no  happy  chance  be  the  lot  of  an  important 
witness  in  a  Western  robbery  trial,  and  I  dined  and 
wined  with  the  jovial  officers,  at  least  talking  no  busi 
ness. 

With  business  I  was  sated.  Pidcock  and  the  attor 
ney  for  the  United  States — I  can  remember  neither  his 
name  nor  the  proper  title  of  his  office,  for  he  was  a 
nobody,  and  I  had  forgotten  his  features  each  new 
time  that  we  met — had  mapped  out  the  trial  to  me, 
preparing  and  rehearsing  me  in  my  testimony  until 
they  had  pestered  me  into  a  hatred  of  them  both. 
And  when  word  was  brought  me  here,  dining  at  Low 
ell  Barracks,  where  I  had  imagined  myself  safe  from 
justice,  that  this  same  attorney  was  waiting  to  see  me, 
I  rose  and  I  played  him  a  trick.  Possibly  I  should 
not  have  done  it  but  for  the  saloon-keeper  in  the  after 
noon  and  this  sustained  dining  now ;  but  I  sent  him 
word  I  should  be  with  him  directly — and  I  wandered 
into  Tucson  by  myself! 


262  RED    MEN    AND   WHITE 

Faithful  to  my  last  strong  impression  there,  I  went 
straight  to  the  tiny  hotel  garden,  and  in  that  darkness 
lay  down  in  a  delicious  and  torpid  triumph.  The  at 
torney  was  most  likely  waiting  still.  No  one  on  earth 
knew  where  I  was.  Pidcock  could  not  trace  me  now. 
I  could  see  the  stars  through  the  palms  and  the  strange 
trees,  the  fountain  made  a  little  sound,  somewhere  now 
and  then  I  could  hear  the  antelope,  and,  cloaked  in 
this  black  serenity,  I  lay  smiling.  Once  an  engine 
passed  heavily,  leaving  the  station  utterly  quiet  again, 
and  the  next  I  knew  it  was  the  antelope's  rough  tongue 
that  waked  me,  and  I  found  him  nibbling  and  licking 
my  hand.  People  were  sitting  in  the  latticed  passage, 
and  from  the  light  in  the  office  came  Mr.  Mowry,  un 
tying  a  canvas  sack  that  he  held.  At  this  sight  my 
truancy  to  discretion  was  over,  and  no  head  could  be 
more  wakeful  or  clear  than  mine  instantly  became. 

"  How  much  d'yer  want  this  time,  Mr.  Jenks  ?"  in 
quired  Mowry. 

I  could  not  hear  the  statesman's  reply,  but  thought, 
while  the  sound  of  clinking  came  to  me,  how  a  com 
mon  cause  will  often  serve  to  reconcile  the  most  bitter 
opponents.  I  did  not  dare  go  nearer  to  catch  all 
their  talk,  and  I  debated  a  little  upon  my  security 
even  as  it  was,  until  my  own  name  suddenly  reached 
me. 

"  Him  ?"  said  Mowry  ;  "  that  there  tailor-made  boy  ? 
They've  got  him  sleepin'  at  the  Barracks." 

"  Nobody  but  our  crowd's  boarding  here,"  said  some 
one. 

"  They  think  we're  laying  for  their  witnesses,"  said 
the  voice  of  Jenks.  And  among  the  various  mingled 
laughs  rose  distinct  a  big  one  that  I  knew. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho  !    Well,  yes.    Tell  you  about  witnesses. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  263 

Here's  all  there  is  to  them :  spot  cash  to  their  figure, 
and  kissing  the  Book.  You've  done  no  work  but 
what  I  told  you  ?"  he  added,  sharply. 

"We  haven't  needed  to  worry  about  witnesses  in 
any  shape,  Bishop." 

"  That's  good.  That's  economy.  That  little  East 
ern  toorist  is  harmless." 

"  Leave  him  talk,  Bishop.  Leave  'em  all  tell  their 
story." 

"  It's  going  to  cost  the  whole  stake,  though,"  said 
Jenks. 

"  Deserted  Jericho  !"  remarked  old  Meakum. 

"  I  don't  try  cases  for  nothing,  Bishop.  The  deal's 
covered.  My  clients  have  publicly  made  over  to  me 
their  horses  and  saddles." 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho  !"  went  the  Bishop.  But  this  last  word 
about  the  horses  was  the  only  part  of  the  talk  I  could 
not  put  a  plain  meaning  upon. 

Mr.  Mowry  I  now  saw  re-enter  the  lighted  door  of 
the  office,  with  his  canvas  sack  in  his  hand.  "  This  '11 
be  right  here  in  the  safe,"  said  he. 

"  All  right,"  answered  Jenks.  "  I'll  not  be  likely  to 
call  on  you  any  more  for  a  day  or  so." 

"  Hello !"  said  the  office  clerk,  appearing  in  his  shirt 
sleeves.  "  You  fellows  have  made  me  forget  the  an 
telope."  He  took  down  a  lantern,  and  I  rose  to  my 
feet. 

"  Give  us  a  drink  before  you  feed  him,"  said  Jenks. 
Then  I  saw  the  whole  of  them  crowd  into  the  door 
for  their  nightcap,  and  that  was  all  I  waited  for. 

I  climbed  the  garden  fence.  My  thoughts  led  me 
at  random  through  quantities  of  soft  dust,  and  over 
the  rails,  I  think,  several  times,  until  I  stood  between 
empty  and  silent  freight  trains,  and  there  sat  down. 


264  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

Harmless  !  It  seemed  to  me  they  would  rate  me 
differently  in  the  morning.  So  for  a  while  my  mind 
was  adrift  in  the  turbulent  cross-currents  of  my  dis 
covery  ;  but  it  was  with  a  smooth,  innocent  surface 
that  I  entered  the  hotel  office  and  enjoyed  the  look  of 
the  clerk  when  he  roused  and  heard  me,  who,  accord 
ing  to  their  calculations,  should  have  been  in  slumber 
at  the  Barracks,  asking  to  be  shown  my  room  here.  I 
was  tempted  to  inquire  if  he  had  fed  the  antelope — 
such  was  the  pride  of  my  elation — and  I  think  he  must 
have  been  running  over  questions  to  put  me ;  but  the 
two  of  us  marched  up  the  stairs  with  a  lamp  and  a 
key,  speaking  amiably  of  the  weather  for  this  time  of 
year,  and  he  unlocked  my  door  with  a  politeness  and 
hoped  I  would  sleep  well  with  a  consideration  that  I 
have  rarely  met  in  the  hotel  clerk.  I  did  not  sleep 
well.  Yet  it  seemed  not  to  matter.  By  eight  I  had 
breakfast,  and  found  the  attorney — Rocklin  I  shall 
name  him,  and  that  will  have  to  answer — and  told  him 
how  we  had  become  masters  of  the  situation. 

He  made  me  repeat  it  all  over,  jotting  memoranda 
this  second  time ;  and  when  my  story  was  done,  he 
sat  frowning  at  his  notes,  with  a  cigar  between  his 
teeth. 

"  This  ain't  much,"  he  said.  "  Luckily  I  don't  need 
anything  more.  I've  got  a  dead  open-and-shut  case 
without  it." 

"Why  don't  you  make  it  deader,  then?"  said  I. 
"  Don't  you  see  what  it  all  means  ?" 

"  Well,  what  does  it  all  mean  ?" 

Either  the  man  was  still  nettled  at  my  treatment  of 
him  last  evening,  or  had  no  liking  for  amateur  opin 
ions  and  help  ;  otherwise  I  see  no  reason  for  the  dis 
paragement  with  which  he  regarded  me  while  I  inter- 


A   PILGRIM   ON   THE  GILA  265 

preted  what  I  had  overheard,  piece  by  piece,  except 
the  horse  and  saddle  remark. 

"  Since  that  don't  seem  clear,  I'll  explain  it  to  you," 
he  said,  "  and  then  you'll  know  it  all.  Except  their 
horses  and  saddles,  the  accused  haven't  a  red  cent  to 
their  names — not  an  honest  one,  that  is.  So  it  looks 
well  for  them  to  be  spending  all  they've  apparently 
got  in  the  world  to  pay  counsel  fees.  Now  I  have 
this  case  worked  up,"  he  pursued,  complacently,  "  so 
that  any  such  ambiguous  stuff  as  yours  is  no  good  to 
me  at  all — would  be  harmful,  in  fact.  It's  not  good 
policy,  my  friend,  to  assail  the  character  of  opposing 
counsel.  And  Bishop  Meakum  !  Are  you  aware  of 
his  power  and  standing  in  this  section  ?  Do  you 
think  you're  going  to  ring  him  in  ?" 

"Great  goodness!"  I  cried.  "Let  me  testify,  and 
then  let  the  safe  be  opened." 

Rocklin  looked  at  me  a  moment,  the  cigar  wagging 
between  his  teeth,  and  then  he  lightly  tossed  his  notes 
in  the  waste-paper  basket. 

"  Open  your  safe,"  said  he,  "  and  what  then  ?  Up 
steps  old  Mowry  and  says,  *  I'll  thank  you  to  let  my 
property  alone.'  Where's  your  proof?  What  word  did 
any  of  them  drop  that  won't  bear  other  constructions  ? 
Mowry's  well  known  to  have  money,  and  he  has  a 
right  to  give  it  to  Jenks." 

"  If  the  gold  could  be  identified  ?"  I  suggested. 

"  That's  been  all  attended  to,"  he  answered,  with  in 
creasing  complacence.  "  I'm  obliged  to  you  for  your 
information,  and  in  a  less  sure  case  I  might  risk  using 
it,  but — why,  see  here ;  we've  got  'em  hands  down  !" 
And  he  clapped  me  on  the  knee.  "  If  I  had  met  you 
last  evening  I  was  going  to  tell  you  our  campaign. 
Pidcock  '11  come  first,  of  course,  and  his  testimony  '11 


266  RED   MEN   AND   WHITE 

cover  pretty  much  the  whole  ground.  Then,  you  see, 
the  rest  of  you  I'll  use  mainly  in  support.  Sergeant 
Brown — he's  very  strong,  and  the  black  woman,  and 
you — I'll  probably  call  you  third  or  fourth.  So  you'll 
be  on  hand  sure  now?" 

Certainly  I  had  no  thought  of  being  anywhere  else. 
The  imminence  of  our  trial  was  now  heralded  by  the 
cook's  coming  to  Rocklin's  office  punctual  to  his  di 
rection,  and  after  her  Pidcock  almost  immediately. 
It  was  not  many  minutes  before  the  more  important 
ones  of  us  had  gathered,  and  we  proceeded  to  court, 
once  again  a  Combination  Extraordinary — a  spectacle 
for  Tucson.  So  much  stir  and  prosperity  had  not 
blossomed  in  the  town  for  many  years,  its  chief  source 
of  life  being  the  money  that  Lowell  Barracks  brought 
to  it.  But  now  its  lodgings  were  crowded  and  its  sa 
loons  and  Mexican  dens  of  entertainment  waked  to 
activity.  From  a  dozing  sunburnt  village  of  adobe 
walls  and  almond -trees  it  was  become  something 
like  those  places  built  in  a  single  Western  day  of  riot 
extravagance,  where  corner  lots  are  clamored  for  and 
men  pay  a  dollar  to  be  shaved. 

Jenks  was  before  us  in  the  room  with  his  clients. 
He  was  practising  what  I  always  think  of  as  his  cellu 
loid  smile,  whispering,  and  all-hail  with  everybody. 
One  of  the  prisoners  had  just  such  another  mustache 
as  his  own,  too  large  for  his  face;  and  this  had  led 
me  since  to  notice  a  type  of  too  large  mustaches 
through  our  country  in  all  ranks,  but  of  similar  men, 
who  generally  have  either  stolen  something  or  lacked 
the  opportunity.  Catching  sight  of  me,  Jenks  came 
at  once,  friendly  as  you  please,  shaking  my  passive 
hand,  and  laughing  that  we  should  meet  again  under 
such  circumstances. 


A    PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  267 

"When  we're  through  this  nuisance,"  said  he,  "you 
must  take  dinner  with  me.  Just  now,  you  under 
stand,  it  wouldn't  look  well  to  see  me  hobnobbing 
with  a  government  witness.  See  you  again  !"  And 
he  was  off  to  some  one  else. 

I  am  confident  this  man  could  not  see  himself  as 
others — some  others,  at  least — saw  him.  To  him  his 
whole  performance  was  natural  and  professional,  and 
my  view  that  he  was  more  infamous  by  far  than  the 
thieves  would  have  sincerely  amazed  him.  Indeed, 
for  one  prisoner  I  felt  very  sorry.  Young  black  curly 
was  sitting  there,  and,  in  contrast  to  Mr.  Adams,  down 
whose  beard  the  tobacco  forever  ran,  he  seemed 
downcast  and  unhardened,  I  thought.  He  was  get 
ting  his  deserts  through  base  means.  It  was  not  for 
the  sake  of  justice  but  from  private  revenge  that  Mrs. 
Sproud  had  moved;  and,  after  all,  had  the  boy  in 
jured  her  so  much  as  this  ?  Yet  how  could  I  help 
him  ?  They  were  his  deserts.  My  mood  was  abruptly 
changed  to  diversion  when  I  saw  among  our  jury 
specimens  of  both  types  of  Meakum,  and  prominent 
among  the  spectator  throng  their  sire,  that  canny 
polygamist,  surveying  the  case  with  the  same  forceful 
attention  I  had  noticed  first  in  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  and  ever  since  that  day.  But  I  had  a  true 
shock  of  surprise  now.  Mrs.  Sproud  was  in  court. 
There  could  be  no  mistake.  No  one  seemed  to  no 
tice  her,  and  I  wondered  if  many  in  the  town  knew 
her  face,  and  with  what  intent  she  had  returned  to 
this  dangerous  neighborhood.  I  was  so  taken  up 
with  watching  her  and  her  furtive  appearance  in  the 
almost  concealed  position  she  had  chosen  that  I  paid 
little  heed  to  the  government's  opening  of  its  case. 
She  had  her  eyes  upon  black  curly,  but  he  could  not 


268  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

see  her.  Pidcock  was  in  the  midst  of  his  pompous 
recital  when  the  court  took  its  noon  intermission. 
Then  I  was  drawn  to  seek  out  black  curly  as  he  was 
conducted  to  his  dinner. 

"  Good-day,"  said  he,  as  I  came  beside  him. 

"  I  wish  I  didn't  have  to  go  on  oath  about  this,"  I 
said 

"Oath  away,"  he  answered,  doggedly.  "What's 
that  got  to  do  with  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  come  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Come  where  ?"     He  looked  at  me  defiantly. 

"When  people  don't  wish  to  be  trailed,"  I  went  on, 
"  do  I  understand  they  sometimes  spread  a  blanket 
and  lead  their  horses  on  it  and  take  off  their  shoes  ? 
I'm  merely  asking  out  of  a  traveller's  curiosity." 

"  I  guess  you'll  have  to  ask  them  that's  up  on  such 
tricks,"  he  answered,  grinning. 

I  met  him  in  the  eyes,  and  a  strong  liking  for  him 
came  over  me.  "  I  probably  owe  you  my  life,"  I  said, 
huskily.  "  I  know  I  do.  And  I  hate — you  must  con 
sider  me  a  poor  sort  of  bird." 

"  Blamed  if  I  know  what  you're  drivin'  at,"  said 
black  curly.  But  he  wrinkled  his  forehead  in  the 
pleasant  way  I  remembered.  "  Yer  whiskey  was  good 
all  right,"  he  added,  and  gave  me  his  hand. 

"  Look  here,"  said  I.     "  She's  come  back." 

This  took  the  boy  unguarded,  and  he  swore  with 
surprise.  Then  his  face  grew  sombre.  "  Let  her,"  he 
remarked ;  and  that  was  all  we  said. 

At  the  afternoon  sitting  I  began  to  notice  how 
popular  sympathy  was  not  only  quite  against  the 
United  States,  but  a  sentiment  amounting  to  hatred 
was  shown  against  all  soldiers.  The  voice  of  respect 
ability  seemed  entirely  silent;  decent  citizens  were 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  269 

there,  but  not  enough  of  them.  The  mildest  opinion 
was  that  Uncle  Sam  could  afford  to  lose  money  better 
than  poor  people,  and  the  strongest  was  that  it  was  a 
pity  the  soldiers  had  not  been  killed.  This  seemed 
inappropriate  in  a  Territory  desiring  admission  to  our 
Union.  I  supposed  it  something  local  then,  but  have 
since  observed  it  to  be  a  prevailing  Western  antipathy. 
The  unthinking  sons  of  the  sage-brush  ill  tolerate  a 
thing  which  stands  for  discipline,  good  order,  and 
obedience,  and  the  man  who  lets  another  command 
him  they  despise.  I  can  think  of  no  threat  more  evil 
for  our  democracy,  for  it  is  a  fine  thing  diseased  and 
perverted — namely,  independence  gone  drunk. 

Pidcock's  examination  went  forward,  and  the  half- 
sack  of  gold  from  the  hay -stack  brought  a  great 
silence  in  court.  The  Major's  identification  of  the 
gold  was  conducted  by  Rocklin  with  stage  effect,  for 
it  was  an  undoubted  climax ;  but  I  caught  a  most  sin 
gular  smile  on  the  face  of  Bishop  Meakum,  and  there 
sat  Mrs.  Sproud,  still  solitary  and  engulfed  in  the 
throng,  her  face  flushed  and  her  eyes  blazing.  And 
here  ended  the  first  day. 

In  the  morning  came  the  Major's  cross-examina 
tion,  with  the  room  more  crowded  than  before,  but  I 
could  not  find  Mrs.  Sproud.  Rocklin  did  not  believe 
I  had  seen  her,  and  I  feared  something  had  happened 
to  her.  The  Bishop  had  walked  to  the  court  with 
Jenks,  talking  and  laughing  upon  general  subjects,  so 
far  as  I  could  hear.  The  counsel  for  the  prisoners 
passed  lightly  over  the  first  part  of  the  evidence,  only 
causing  an  occasional  laugh  on  the  score  of  the  Ma 
jor's  military  prowess,  until  he  came  to  the  gold. 

"  You  said  this  sack  was  one  of  yours,  Major  ?"  he 
now  inquired. 


2;0  RED  MEN  AND  WHITE 

"  It  is  mine,  sir." 

A  large  bundle  of  sacks  was  brought.  "And  how 
about  these  ?  Here  are  ten,  fifteen — about  forty.  I'll 
get  some  more  if  you  say  so.  Are  they  all  yours  ?" 

"  Your  question  strikes  me  as  idle,  sir."  The  court 
rapped,  and  Jenks  smiled.  "  They  resemble  mine," 
said  Pidcock.  "  But  they  are  not  used." 

"  No  ;  not  used."  Jenks  held  up  the  original,  shak 
ing  the  gold.  "  Now  I'm  going  to  empty  your  sack 
for  a  moment." 

"  I  object,"  said  Rocklin,  springing  up. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  counted,"  laughed  Jenks  ;  and  the  ob 
jection  was  not  sustained.  Then  Jenks  poured  the 
gold  into  a  new  sack  and  shook  that  aloft.  "It 
makes  them  look  confusingly  similar,  Major.  I'll  just 
put  my  card  in  your  sack." 

"  I  object,"  said  Rocklin,  with  anger,  but  with  fu 
tility.  Jenks  now  poured  the  gold  back  into  the  first, 
then  into  a  third,  and  thus  into  several,  tossing  them 
each  time  on  the  table,  and  the  clinking  pieces  sounded 
clear  in  the  room.  Bishop  Meakum  was  watching 
the  operation  like  a  wolf.  "  Now,  Major,"  said  Jenks, 
"  is  your  gold  in  the  original  sack,  or  which  sack  is 
my  card  in  ?" 

This  was  the  first  time  that  the  room  broke  out 
loudly;  and  Pidcock,  when  the  people  were  rapped 
to  order,  said,  "  The  sack's  not  the  thing." 

"  Of  course  not.  The  gold  is  our  point.  And  of 
course  you  had  a  private  mark  on  it.  Tell  the  jury, 
please,  what  the  private  mark  was." 

He  had  none.  He  spoke  about  dates,  and  new 
coins,  he  backed  and  filled,  swelled  importantly,  and 
ended  like  a  pricked  bladder  by  recanting  his  identi 
fication. 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  27! 

"  That  is  all  I  have  to  say  for  the  present,"  said 
Jenks. 

"  Don't  complicate  the  issue  by  attempting  to  prove 
too  much,  Mr.  Rocklin,"  said  the  judge. 

Rocklin  flushed,  and  called  the  next  witness,  whis 
pering  sulkily  to  me,  "What  can  you  expect  if  the 
court  starts  out  against  you  ?"  But  the  court  was  by 
no  means  against  him.  The  judge  was  merely  dis 
gusted  over  Rocklin's  cardinal  folly  of  identifying  coin 
under  such  loose  conditions. 

And  now  came  the  testimony  of  Sergeant  Brown. 
He  told  so  clear  a  story  as  to  chill  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  room.  He  pointed  to  the  man  with  the  mustache, 
black  curly,  and  yellow.  "  I  saw  them  shooting  from 
the  right  of  the  road,"  he  said.  Jenks  tried  but  little 
to  shake  him,  and  left  him  unshaken.  He  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  other  wounded  soldier,  whose  story  was 
nearly  the  same,  except  that  he  identified  different 
prisoners. 

"  Who  did  you  say  shot  you  ?"  inquired  Jenks. 
"  Which  of  these  two  ?" 

"  I  didn't  say.     I  don't  know." 

"  Don't  know  a  man  when  he  shoots  you  in  broad 
daylight  ?" 

"Plenty  was  shooting  at  me,"  said  the  soldier. 
And  his  testimony  also  remained  unshaken. 

Then  came  my  own  examination,  and  Jenks  did  not 
trouble  me  at  all,  but,  when  I  had  likewise  identified 
the  men  I  knew,  simply  bowed  smilingly,  and  had  no 
questions  to  ask  his  friend  from  the  East. 

Our  third  morning  began  with  the  negress,  who  said 
she  was  married,  told  a  scattered  tale,  and  soon  stated 
that  she  was  single,  explaining  later  that  she  had  two 
husbands,  and  one  was  dead,  while  the  other  had  dis- 


AND  WHITE 

appeared  from  her  ten  years  ago.  Gradually  her 
alarm  subsided  and  she  achieved  coherence. 

"  What  did  this  gentleman  do  at  the  occurrence  ?" 
inquired  Jenks,  indicating  me. 

"  Dat  gemman  ?  He  jes  flew,  sir,  an'  I  don'  blame 
him  fo'  bein'  no  wusser  skeer'd  dan  de  hole  party. 
Yesser,  we  all  flew  scusin'  dey  two  pore  chillun ;  an' 
we  stayed  till  de  'currence  was  ceased." 

"  But  the  gentleman  says  he  sat  on  a  stone,  and 
saw  those  men  firing." 

"  Land  I  I  seed  him  goin'  like  he  was  gwineter  Fo't 
Grant.  He  run  up  de  hill,  an'  de  Gennul  he  run 
down  like  de  day  of  judgment." 

"  The  General  ran  ?" 

"Lawd  grashus,  honey,  yo'  could  have  played 
checkers  on  dey  coat  tails  of  his." 

The  court  rapped  gently. 

"  But  the  gold  must  have  been  heavy  to  carry  away 
to  the  horses.  Did  not  the  General  exert  his  influ 
ence  to  rally  his  men  ?" 

"  No,  sah.  De  Gennul  went  down  de  hill,  an'  he 
took  his  inflooence  with  him." 

"  I  have  no  further  questions,"  said  Jenks.  "  When 
we  come  to  our  alibis,  gentlemen,  I  expect  to  satisfy 
you  that  this  lady  saw  more  correctly,  and  when  she  is 
unable  to  recognize  my  clients  it  is  for  a  good  reason." 

"  We've  not  got  quite  so  far  yet,"  Rocklin  observed. 
"  We've  reached  the  hay-stack  at  present." 

"Aren't  you  going  to  make  her  describe  her  own 
confusion  more  ?"  I  began,  but  stopped,  for  I  saw  that 
the  next  witness  was  at  hand,  and  that  it  was  Mrs. 
Sproud. 

"  How's  this  ?"  I  whispered  to  Rocklin.  "  How 
did  you  get  her  ?" 


A  PILGRIM   ON   THE   GILA  273 

"  She  volunteered  this  morning,  just  before  trial. 
We're  in  big  luck." 

The  woman  was  simply  dressed  in  something  dark. 
Her  handsome  face  was  pale,  but  she  held  a  steady 
eye  upon  the  jury,  speaking  clearly  and  with  delibera 
tion.  Old  Meakum,  always  in  court  and  watchful, 
was  plainly  unprepared  for  this,  and  among  the  pris 
oners,  too,  I  could  discern  uneasiness.  Whether  or 
no  any  threat  or  constraint  had  kept  her  invisible 
during  these  days,  her  coming  now  was  a  thing  for 
which  none  of  us  were  ready. 

"  What  do  I  know  ?"  she  repeated  after  the  coun 
sel.  "  I  suppose  you  have  been  told  what  I  said  I 
knew." 

"We'd  like  to  hear  it  directly  from  you,  Mrs. 
Sproud,"  Rocklin  explained. 

"  Where  shall  I  start  ?" 

"  Well,  there  was  a  young  man  who  boarded  with 
you,  was  there  not  ?" 

"  I  object  to  the  witness  being  led,"  said  Jenks. 
And  Bishop  Meakum  moved  up  beside  the  prisoners' 
counsel  and  began  talking  with  him  earnestly. 

"  Nobody  is  leading  me,"  said  Mrs.  Sproud,  im 
periously,  and  raising  her  voice  a  little.  She  looked 
about  her.  "There  was  a  young  man  who  boarded 
with  me.  Of  course  that  is  so." 

Meakum  broke  off  in  his  confidences  with  Jenks, 
and  looked  sharply  at  her. 

"  Do  you  see  your  boarder  anywhere  here  ?"  in 
quired  Rocklin  ;  and  from  his  tone  I  perceived  that 
he  was  puzzled  by  the  manner  of  his  witness. 

She  turned  slowly,  and  slowly  scrutinized  the  pris 
oners  one  by  one.  The  head  of  black  curly  was  bent 
down,  and  I  saw  her  eyes  rest  upon  it  while  she  stood 


274  REt>   MEN  AND   WHITE 

in  silence.  It  was  as  if  he  felt  the  summons  'of  her 
glance,  for  he  raised  his  head.  His  face  was  scarlet, 
but  her  paleness  did  not  change. 

"  He  is  the  one  sitting  at  the  end,"  she  said,  look 
ing  back  at  the  jury.  She*  then  told  some  useless 
particulars,  and  brought  her  narrative  to  the  after 
noon  when  she  had  heard  the  galloping.  "  Then  I 
hid.  I  hid  because  this  is  a  rough  country." 

"  When  did  you  recognize  that  young  man's  voice  ?" 

"  I  did  not  recognize  it." 

Black  curly's  feet  scraped  as  he  shifted  his  position. 

"  Collect  yourself,  Mrs.  Sproud.  We'll  give  you  all 
the  time  you  want.  We  know  ladies  are  not  used  to 
talking  in  court.  Did  you  not  hear  this  young  man 
talking  to  his  friends  ?" 

"  I  heard  talking,"  replied  the  witness,  quite  col 
lected.  "  But  I  could  not  make  out  who  they  were. 
If  I  could  have  been  sure  it  was  him  and  friends,  I 
wouldn't  have  stayed  hid.  I'd  have  had  no  call  to  be 
scared." 

Rocklin  was  dazed,  and  his  next  question  came  in 
a  voice  still  more  changed  and  irritable. 

"  Did  you  see  any  one  ?" 

"  No  one." 

"  What  did  you  hear  them  say  ?" 

"They  were  all  talking  at  once.  I  couldn't  be 
sure." 

"  Why  did  you  go  to  the  hay-stack  ?" 

"  Because  they  said  something  about  my  hay-stack, 
and  I  wanted  to  find  out,  if  I  could." 

"  Did  you  not  write  their  names  on  a  paper  and 
give  it  to  this  gentleman  ?  Remember  you  are  on 
oath,  Mrs.  Sproud." 

By  this  time  a  smile  was  playing  on  the  features  of 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  275 

Jenks,  and  he  and  Bishop  Meakum  talked  no  longer 
together,  but  sat  back  to  watch  the  woman's  extraor 
dinary  attempt  to  undo  her  work.  It  was  shrewd, 
very  shrewd,  in  her  to  volunteer  as  our  witness  instead 
of  as  theirs.  She  was  ready  for  the  paper  question, 
evidently. 

"  I  wrote — "  she  began,  but  Rocklin  interrupted. 

"  On  oath,  remember  !"  he  repeated,  rinding  him 
self  cross-examining  his  own  witness.  "The  names 
you  wrote  are  the  names  of  these  prisoners  here 
before  the  court.  They  were  traced  as  the  direct  re 
sult  of  your  information.  They  have  been  identified 
by  three  or  four  persons.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you 
did  not  know  who  they  were  ?" 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  Mrs.  Sproud,  firmly.  "  As 
for  the  paper,  I  acted  hasty.  I  was  a  woman,  alone, 
and  none  to  consult  or  advise  me.  I  thought  I  would 
get  in  trouble  if  I  did  not  tell  about  such  goings  on, 
and  I  just  wrote  the  names  of  Will — of  the  boys  that 
came  round  there  all  the  time,  thinking  it  was  most 
likely  them.  I  didn't  see  him,  and  I  didn't  make  out 
surely  it  was  his  voice.  I  wasn't  sure  enough  to 
come  out  and  ask  what  they  were  up  to.  I  didn't 
stop  to  think  of  the  harm  I  was  doing  on  guess 
work." 

For  the  first  time  the  note  of  remorse  conquered  in 
her  voice.  I  saw  how  desperation  at  what  she  had 
done  when  she  thought  her  love  was  cured  was  now 
bracing  the  woman  to  this  audacity. 

"Remember,"  said  Rocklin,  "the  gold  was  also 
found  as  the  direct  result  of  your  information.  It  was 
you  who  told  Major  Pidcock  in  the  ambulance  about 
the  seven  sacks." 

"  I  never  said  anything  about  seven  sacks." 


276  RED   MEN  AND   WHITE 

This  falsehood  was  a  master-stroke,  for  only  half  a 
sack  had  been  found.  She  had  not  written  this  down. 
There  was  only  the  word  of  Pidcock  and  me  to  vouch 
for  it,  while  against  us  stood  her  denial,  and  the  actual 
quantity  of  gold. 

"  I  have  no  further  questions,"  said  Rocklin. 

"  But  I  have,"  said  Jenks.  And  then  he  made  the 
most  of  Mrs.  Sproud,  although  many  in  the  room 
were  laughing,  and  she  herself,  I  think,  felt  she  had 
done  little  but  sacrifice  her  own  character  without  re 
pairing  the  injury  she  had  done  black  curly.  Jenks 
made  her  repeat  that  she  was  frightened ;  not  calm 
enough  to  be  sure  of  voices,  especially  many  speaking 
together ;  that  she  had  seen  no  one  throughout.  He 
even  attempted  to  show  that  the  talk  about  the  hay 
stack  might  have  been  purely  about  hay,  and  that  the 
half-sack  of  gold  might  have  been  put  there  at  an 
other  time — might  belong  to  some  honest  man  this 
very  moment. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  the  young  man  who  boarded 
with  you  to  do  a  dishonorable  thing  ?"  inquired  Jenks. 
"  Did  you  not  have  the  highest  opinion  of  him  ?" 

She  had  not  expected  a  question  like  this.  It 
nearly  broke  the  woman  down.  She  put  her  hand  to 
her  breast,  and  seemed  afraid  to  trust  her  voice.  "  I 
have  the  highest  opinion  of  him,"  she  said,  word  pain 
fully  following  word.  "  He — he  used  to  know  that." 

"  I  have  finished,"  said  Jenks. 

"  Can  I  go  ?"  asked  the  witness,  and  the  attorneys 
bowed.  She  stood  one  hesitating  moment  in  the 
witness  -  stand,  and  she  looked  at  the  jury  and  the 
court;  then,  as  if  almost  in  dread,  she  let  her  eyes 
travel  to  black  curly.  But  his  eyes  were  sullenly 
averted.  Then  Mrs.  Sproud  slowly  made  her  way 


A   PILGRIM    ON   THE   GILA  277 

through  the  room,  with  one  of  the  saddest  faces  I 
have  ever  seen,  and  the  door  closed  behind  her. 

We  finished  our  case  with  all  the  prisoners  identi 
fied,  and  some  of  them  doubly.  The  defence  was 
scarcely  more  than  a  sham.  The  flimsy  alibis  were 
destroyed  even  by  the  incompetent,  unready  Rocklin, 
and  when  the  charge  came  blackness  fell  upon  the 
citizens  of  Tucson.  The  judge's  cold  statements 
struck  them  as  partisan,  and  they  murmured  and 
looked  darkly  at  him.  But  the  jury,  with  its  Mea- 
kums,  wore  no  expression  at  all  during  any  of  his  re 
marks.  Their  eyes  were  upon  him,  but  entirely  fish- 
like.  He  dismissed  the  cumbersome  futilities  one  by 
one.  "  Now  three  witnesses  have  between  them  rec 
ognized  all  the  prisoners  but  one,"  he  continued. 
"That  one,  a  reputed  pauper,  paid  several  hundred 
dollars  of  debts  in  gold  the  morning  after  the  rob 
bery.  The  money  is  said  to  be  the  proceeds  of  a 
cattle  sale.  No  cattle  have  ever  been  known  to  be 
long  to  this  man,  and  the  purchaser  had  never  been 
known  to  have  any  income  until  this  trial  began. 
The  prisoner's  name  was  on  Mrs.  Sproud's  paper. 
The  statement  of  one  witness  that  he  sat  on  a  stone 
and  saw  three  other  of  the  prisoners  firing  has  been 
contradicted  by  a  woman  who  described  herself  as 
having  run  away  at  once  ;  it  is  supported  by  two  men 
who  are  admitted  by  all  to  have  remained,  and  in  con 
sequence  been  shot.  Their  statements  have  been 
assailed  by  no  one.  Their  testimony  stands  on  the 
record  unimpeached.  They  have  identified  five  pris 
oners.  If  you  believe  them — and  remember  that  not 
a  word  they  said  has  been  questioned — "  here  the 
judge  emphasized  more  and  more  clearly.  He  con 
cluded  with  the  various  alternatives  of  fact  according 


278  RED    MEN    AND    WHITE 

to  which  the  jury  must  find  its  several  possible  ver 
dicts.  When  he  had  finished,  the  room  sat  sullen 
and  still,  and  the  twelve  went  out.  I  am  told  that 
they  remained  ten  minutes  away.  It  seemed  one  to 
me. 

When  they  had  resumed  their  seats  I  noticed  the 
same  fishlike  oracular  eye  in  most  of  them  unchanged. 
"  Not  guilty,"  said  the  foreman. 

"What!"  shouted  the  judge,  startled  out  of  all  ju 
dicial  propriety.  "  None  of  'em  ?" 

"  Not  guilty,"  monotonously  repeated  the  foreman. 

We  were  silent  amid  the  din  of  triumph  now  raised 
by  Tucson.  In  the  laughter,  the  hand-shaking,  the 
shouting,  and  the  jubilant  pistol-shots  that  some  par 
ticularly  free  spirit  fired  in  the  old  Cathedral  Square, 
we  went  to  our  dinner ;  and  not  even  Stirling  could 
joke.  "There's  a  certain  natural  justice  done  here 
in  spite  of  them,"  he  said.  "  They  are  not  one  cent 
richer  for  all  their  looted  twenty  -  eight  thousand. 
They  come  out  free,  but  penniless." 

"  How  about  Jenks  and  that  jury  ?"  said  I.  And 
Stirling  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

But  we  had  yet  some  crowning  impudence  to  learn. 
Later,  in  the  street,  the  officers  and  I  met  the  prison 
ers,  their  witnesses,  and  their  counsel  emerging  from 
a  photographer's  studio.  The  Territorial  Delegate 
had  been  taken  in  a  group  with  his  acquitted  thieves. 
The  Bishop  had  declined  to  be  in  this  souvenir. 

"  That's  a  picture  I  want,"  said  I.  "  Only  I'll  be 
sorry  to  see  your  face  there,"  I  added  to  black  curly. 

"  Indeed  !"  put  in  Jenks. 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  You  and  he  do  not  belong  in  the 
same  class.  By-the-way,  Mr.  Jenks,  I  suppose  you'll 
return  their  horses  and  saddles  now  ?" 


A  PILGRIM   ON  THE  GILA  379 

Too  many  were  listening  for  him  to  lose  his  temper, 
and  he  did  a  sharp  thing.  He  took  this  public  oppor 
tunity  for  breaking  some  news  to  his  clients.  "  I  had 
hoped  to,"  he  said ;  "  that  is,  as  many  as  were  not 
needed  to  defray  necessary  costs.  But  it's  been  an 
expensive  suit,  and  I've  found  myself  obliged  to  sell 
them  all.  It's  little  enough  to  pay  for  clearing  your 
character,  boys." 

They  saw  through  his  perfidy  to  them,  and  that  he 
had  them  checkmated.  Any  protest  from  them  would 
be  a  confession  of  their  theft.  Yet  it  seemed  an  un 
safe  piece  of  villany  in  Jenks. 

"  They  look  disappointed,"  I  remarked.  "  I  shall 
value  the  picture  very  highly." 

"  If  that's  Eastern  sarcasm,"  said  Jenks,  "  it's  be 
yond  me." 

"  No,  Mr.  Jenks,"  I  answered.  "  In  your  pres 
ence  sarcasm  drops  dead.  I  think  you'll  prosper  in 
politics." 

But  there  I  was  wrong.  There  is  some  natural  jus 
tice  in  these  events,  though  I  wish  there  were  more. 
The  jury,  it  is  true,  soon  seemed  oddly  prosperous,  as 
Stirling  wrote  me  afterwards.  They  painted  their 
houses ;  two  of  them,  who  had  generally  walked  be 
fore,  now  had  wagons ;  and  in  so  many  of  their  gar 
dens  and  small  ranches  did  the  plants  and  fruits  in 
crease  that,  as  Stirling  put  it,  they  had  evidently  sowed 
their  dollars.  But  upon  Jenks  Territorial  displeasure 
did  descend.  He  had  stayed  away  too  much  from 
Washington.  A  pamphlet  appeared  with  the  title, 
"  What  Luke  Jenks  Has  Done  for  Arizona."  Inside 
were  twenty  blank  pages,  and  he  failed  of  re-election. 

Furthermore,  the  government  retaliated  upon  this 
district  by  abandoning  Camp  Thomas  and  Lowell 


280  RED  MEN  AND   WHITE 

Barracks,  those  important  sources  of  revenue  for  the 
neighborhood.  The  brief  boom  did  not  help  Tucson 
very  long,  and  left  it  poorer  than  ever. 

At  the  station  I  saw  Mrs.  Sproud  and  black  curly, 
neither  speaking  to  the  other.  It  was  plain  that  he 
had  utterly  done  with  her,  and  that  she  was  too  proud 
even  to  look  at  him.  She  went  West,  and  he  as  far 
east  as  Willcox.  Neither  one  have  I  ever  seen  again. 

But  I  have  the  photograph,  and  I  sometimes  wonder 
what  has  happened  to  black  curly.  Arizona  is  still  a 
Territory;  and  when  I  think  of  the  Gila  Valley  and 
of  the  Boy  Orator,  I  recall  Bishop  Meakum's  remark 
about  our  statesmen  at  Washington :  "  You  can  divide 
them  birds  in  two  lots — those  who  know  better,  and 
those  who  don't.  D'you  follow  me  ?" 


THE   END 


BY  CHAELES  DUDLEY  WAENER 


THAT  FORTUNE.     Post  8vo,  Half  Leather,  $1  50. 

"That  Fortune  "  is  a  vivid  and  powerful  portrayal  of  New  York  life. 
It  is  the  third  in  a  trilogy,  being  in  a  way  a  sequel  to  "A  Little  Journey 
in  the  World"  and  "The  Golden  House." 
THE   PEOPLE   FOR  WHOM    SHAKESPEARE  WROTE. 

16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  Deckel  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $1  25. 
THE  RELATION  OF  LITERATURE  TO  LIFE.    Post  8vo, 

Cloth,  Ornamental,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $1  50.    (In 

"Harper's  Contemporary  Essayists.") 
THE  GOLDEN   HOUSE.     Illustrated  by  W.  T.   SMBDLK. 

Post  8vo,  Ornamental  Half  Leather,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt 

Top,  $2  00.  * 

A  LITTLE  JOURNEY  IN  THE  WORLD.    A  Novel.    Post 

8vo,  Half  Leather,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $1  50; 

Paper,  75  cents. 
THEIR  PILGRIMAGE.    Illustrated  by  C.  S.  REINHART.   Post 

8vo,  Half  Leather,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $2  00. 
STUDIES  IN  THE  SOUTH  AND  WEST,  with  Comment!  on 

Canada.     Post  8vo,  Half  Leather,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt 

Top,  $1  75. 
AS  WE  GO.    With  Portrait  and  Illustrations.    16mo,  Cloth. 

Ornamental,  $1  00.    (In  "  Harper's  American  Essayists.") 
AS  WE  WERE  SAYING.    With  Portrait  and  Illustrations. 

16mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  00.     (In  "  Harper's  Ameri 
can  Essayists.") 
THE  WORK  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  With  Portraits. 

32mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  50  cents.     (In  Black  and  White 

Series.) 

Mr.  Warner  has  such  a  fine  fancy,  such  a  genial  humor, 
that  one  never  tires  of  him. — Cincinnati  Commercial  Gazette. 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHEBS 

NEW  YORK  AND   LONDON 


ny  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage 
prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or 
Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


BY  K.  D.  BLACKMOKE 


PERLYCROSS.    A  Novel.    Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental, 

$1  75. 

Told  with  delicate  and  delightful  art.  Its  pictures  of  rural 
English  scenes  and  characters  will  woo  and  solace  the  reader. 
.  .  .  Not  often  do  we  find  a  more  impressive  piece  of  work. — 
N.  Y.  Sun. 

SPRINGHAVEN.     Illustrated.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  60. 
LORNA  DOONE.      Illustrated.      12mo,  Cloth,  $1  00;  8vo, 

Paper,  40  cents. 
TOMMY  UPMORE.    The  Remarkable  History  of  Sir  Thomas 

Upmore,  Bart..  M.P.     16mo,  Half  Cloth,  50  cents  ;  Paper, 

35  cents. 

His  descriptions  are  wonderfully  vivid  and  natural.     His 
pages  are  brightened  everywhere  with  great  humor;   the 
quaint,  dry  turns  of  thought  remind  you  occasionally  of 
Fielding. — London  Times. 
KIT  AND  KITTY.     8vo,  Paper,  35  cents. 
CRADOCK  NOWELL.     8vo,  Paper,  60  cents. 
EREMA  ;  or,  My  Father's  Sin.     8vo,  Paper,  50  cents. 
MARY  ANERLEY.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

His  tales,  all  of  them,  are  pre-eminently  meritorious.  They 
are  remarkable  for  their  careful  elaboration,  the  conscien 
tious  finish  of  their  workmanship,  their  affluence  of  striking 
dramatic  and  narrative  incident,  their  close  observation  and 
general  interpretation  of  nature,  their  profusion  of  picturesque 
description,  and  their  quiet  and  sustained  humor.— Christian 
Intelligencer,^.^.  * 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

\£&~Any  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  pre 
paid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on 
receipt  of  the  price. 


BY  GEOKGE  DU  MAUKIEK 


THE  MARTIAN.  A  Novel.  Illustrated  by  the  Author. 
Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  76 ;  Three-quarter  Calf, 
$3  50;  Three-quarter  Crushed  Levant,  $4  60;  Edition 
deLuxe.  Full  Vellum,  $10  00.  (A  Glossary  of  the  French 
and  Latin  expressions  in  the  story  is  included.) 

SOCIAL  PICTORIAL  SATIRE.  Reminiscences  and  Appre 
ciations  of  English  Illustrators  of  the  Past  Generation. 
With  Illustrations  by  the  Author  and  Others.  Post  8vo, 
Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  60. 

A  LEGEND  OF  CAMELOT.  Pictures  and  Verses.  Oblong 
4to,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  Full  Gilt,  $5  00. 

TRILBY.  A  Novel.  Illustrated  by  the  Author.  Post  8vo, 
Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  75;  Three-quarter  Calf,  $3  50; 
Three-quarter  Crushed  Levant,  $4  60. 

PETER  IBBETSON.  With  an  Introduction  by  his  Cousin, 
Lady  ****(«  Madge  Plunket »).  Edited  and  Illustrated 
by  GEORGE  DU  MATTRIER.  Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental, 
$1  60;  Three-quarter  Calf ,  $3  25;  Three-quarter  Crushed 
Levant,  $4  25. 

ENGLISH  SOCIETY.  Sketched  by  GEORGE  DU  MAURIER. 
About  100  Illustrations.  With  an  Introduction  by  W.  D. 
HOWELLS.  Oblong  4to,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $2  60. 

Mr.  du  Maurier's  style  has  much  distinction — a  blending  of  refine 
ment  and  unconventionality  that  is  delightful.  It  is  vehemently  alive, 
moreover ;  there  is  not  a  word  which  could  be  spared  without  marring 
the  effect,  not  a  line  which  does  not  fall  into  rank  with  vigorous  step. 
It  has  poetic  grace,  too,  a  musical  and  witching  rhythm  here  and 
there.—  New  York  Tribune. 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  pre 
paid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico, 
on  receipt  of  the  price. 


MARY     E.      WILKINS'     WORKS 


THE  PORTION  OF  LABOR.    Illustrated.     $i  50. 

The  story  of  an  American  girl. 
UNDERSTUDIES.     Illustrated.     $i  25. 
SILENCE,  and  Other  Stories.  Second  Edition.  $1  25. 
JEROME  :  A  POOR  MAN.     $i  50. 

A  NEW  ENGLAND  NUN,  and  Other  Stories.  $i  25. 
They  are  all  interesting,  full  of  careful  studies 
of  life  and  nature,  written  wholly  without  pretence  or 
affectation,  with  a  feeling  of  sweet  human  sympathy, 
gilded  by  pleasant  touches  of  humor. — OLIVER 
WENDELL  HOLMES,  writing  of  Miss  Wilkins' 
stories. 

JANE  FIELD.     A  Novel.     $i  25. 

This  is  one  of  the  cleverest  and  best-thought- 
out  books  of  the  season. — Black  and  White. 

PEMBROKE.     $i  50. 

This  is  the  gem  of  Miss  Wilkins'  very  remarka 
ble  productions. — The  Spectator. 

MADELON.     $i  25. 

YOUNG  LUCRETIA,   and  Other  Stories.     Illus 
trated.     $i  25. 

We  know  of  no  one  who  can  write  a  short  story 
with  such  art  and  simplicity  as  Miss  Wilkins,  and 
every  tale  is  invested  with  a  charm '-and  a  pathos 
which  it  would  be  hard  to  match. — Birmingham 
Daily  Gazette. 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

1ST  Any  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail, 
postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States, 
Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


